


Wasted British Youth

by thediamondskies (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Drug Use, Multi, Skins AU, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thediamondskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Skins AU fic in which Harry is the alpha male, Zayn is his tempermental boyfriend, Niall is the awkward virgin, Liam is the group mediator, Danielle is his loyal and kind-hearted girlfriend, and Cher is Danielle's slightly chavvy best mate.  Oh, and Louis the new kid thrown into the middle of it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everyone

**Author's Note:**

> Long time mates Harry, Niall, & Liam are about to start their first day at Webberley College. Coming along is Harry's boyfriend of one year, Zayn, and Liam's girlfriend since forever, Danielle. Meanwhile, new kid Louis Tomlinson finds himself befriending chavvy gossip queen Cher Lloyd as he tries to survives his first day.
> 
> Disclaimer: The people portrayed in this story are characters based on, but in no way represent the members of One Direction, Cher Lloyd, and Danielle Peazer. This is fiction, and I do not own them.

Pack, roll, light.  
  
Harry Styles looked out his bedroom window at the typical rainy England weather, taking a deep drag as his iPod played throughout his room.  It was hard these days to drown out his parents arguing, but smoking helped with selective hearing.  Besides, he had a job to do.  First day of college and all that.  
  
Putting out his spliff, Harry stood up and made his way towards the bathroom, welcoming the steam of his shower with a smile.  He had so much he needed to accomplish: establishing himself as the most popular guy in school, making sure Niall lost his virginity, and making sure Liam and Danielle were the first to consummate the school grounds (if he and Zayn didn't get to it first).  
  
Harry pressed his boyfriend's name on his cell screen, holding his phone to his ear as he started to get dressed.  
  
"'lo?" Zayn croaked.  Harry rolled his eyes.  It was clear that his boyfriend hadn't bothered to wake up, as usual.  
  
"I swear, you've never been on time to anything in your life.  Get your arse up!" he commanded, looking in the mirror as he slid on his black blazer.  
  
He could practically hear Zayn scowling through the phone. "Fuck off, Harry.  What do you want?"  
  
Harry laughed.  "Oi, babe.  C'mon now, you know I love ya.  Anyway, meet me at Jim's right quick, yeah?  Need coffee like a motherfucker.  And I'd also love a blowjob."  
  
"I'm not blowing you at breakfast," Zayn scoffed.  
  
"Handy J?"  
  
"Goodbye, Harry."  
  
He hung up the phone and laughed.  
  


Niall Horan awoke to glass shattering against the wall.  This was, unfortunately, normal.  Sometimes he liked to blame it on the extreme passion of the Irish.  But mostly that was a bunch of bullshit.  His parents fought because they hated each other.  For some reason, they were trying to pretend they didn't for his sake.

  
He rolled out of bed and got ready for school as if he'd been doing it daily, when in actuality he'd spent the summer running around Sheffield with his best mates, Harry and Liam.  It had been the best three months of his life.  
  
His phone rang as he returned from his shower, and Niall rolled his eyes before answering the phone.  "No, Harry.  Whatever it is: no."  
  
"Oh come off it, Niall!  When have I ever led you astray?" he countered in that charming voice of his.  Most people got lost in it and gave up on arguing.  But Niall was not most people.  
  
He snorted, "Is that a serious question, mate?"  
  
Harry only laughed loudly before continuing on, "It's about your dick, man!  We need to get you some muff, stat."  
  
Niall rolled his eyes.  "Seriously?  This again, Harry?  I can have sex whenever I want."  
  
"Yeah, okay," he teased. "When you realize that's a fucking lie, meet me at Jim's, yeah?"  
  
"Laters," Niall responded.  
  
He threw his phone on the bed, looking at himself in the mirror.  With his shaggy, poorly dyed hair and baby face, he didn't find it likely that anyone would sleep with him.  
  
All the girls wanted Harry, anyways.  
  
  
  
Danielle Peazer woke up in her boyfriend's arms, the sun flowing freely into his large home.  Liam's parents were gone until next weekend, making it easy for them to spend the night together.  A look at her phone revealed her father was not impressed, which only made her laugh.  
  
Liam's phone buzzed on his side table, 'Harry' flashing on the caller ID.  Smirking to herself, she answered the phone.  
  
"Ay up, Harold!"  
  
"Morning, love.  Liam awake yet?" Harry asked.  
  
Danielle moved to straddle her boyfriend, rocking her hips slowly with a devilish smirk.  "Not yet."  
  
"Ugh, god.  Do you two ever stop fucking?" Harry groaned.  "Anyways, make it quick.  Jim's in ten, yeah?"  
  
"Jim's in twenty, mate," she replied, hitting the end call button.  
  
Slowly, Liam began to wake up (in more ways than one).  
  
"Who was that?" he slurred tiredly, resting his hands on Danielle's hips.  
  
"Harry.  Jim's.  Sex, now," she responded shortly, pulling at Liam's boxers.  
  
He smiled, flipping the two of them over, and Danielle laughed as she pulled the blanket over their heads.  
  
  
  
Niall was sitting at Jim's with a full fry-up, washing down a large bite with some tea when the door rang and Zayn and Harry strolled in.  Harry had a loose arm around Zayn's shoulder, as he always did, and Zayn had a hand tangled in Harry's.  They were bickering.  
  
"All I'm saying is that the piledriver is possible."  
  
Niall raised an eyebrow as he caught the end of the conversation, Zayn scowling at Harry's comment.  
  
"Stop talking," Zayn declared in an annoyance.  Niall was thankful to see that his best mate complied.  
  
"Right.  Well.  Mornin'.  Someone wanna tell me why we're at Jim's?" Niall greeted, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth.  
  
Harry waved down the waitress, ordering himself a lager.  "Because, mate.  We're going to find you a proper fuck.  Like, someone you could actually be proud to talk about in public."  
  
Niall gave a face, taking a rough bite of sausage as he glared at Harry.  
  
Zayn snorted, taking the first swig of Harry's beer before placing it down on the table.  "Wanker Number One just means we found you a girl.  Or really, Dans did."  
  
"Oi!  I did the facebook stalking," Harry huffed.    
  
Piping in on Zayn's side, Niall added, "That's not much these days, mate.  What'd it take, two minutes?"  
  
Harry scofffed, "Erm, five, thank you!"  
  
The two other boys exchanged a laugh, the bell on the door chiming as Liam and Danielle finally made their grand entrance.  
  
Liam grabbed a chair from another table, sliding it over before sitting.  Danielle easily fell into his lap.  
  
"Seriously?  Lager?  It's quarter t'nine," Liam scolded, giving Harry his best 'disapproving look'.  
  
"What can I say Payne, I'm an alcoholic," Harry teased, shrugging cockily.    
  
Zayn turned to him with a bright smile, "My alcoholic."  
  
From his seat, Niall could see that Zayn's hand had snaked its way up Harry's pant leg, and he rolled his eyes as the two of them casually began to snog profusely at the table.  Liam and Danielle didn't seem to mind, mumbling to each other as they pecked now and again.  It was enough to make Niall nauseous.    
  
"Oi!" he exclaimed, snapping at the both of them with loud fingers, "Can we focus on the whole 'Pussy 999' situation going on over here before I change my mind?"  
  
Zayn bit down on Harry's lip as he pulled away, and the two of them began eye fucking instead.  Niall scowled.  
  
"Right.  Found you a bird, Nially.  Name's Cher.  You remember Cher, right?  From Year Ten?" Danielle asked, her arms relaxed around Liam's neck.  
  
Oh, of course.  How could he fucking forget?  There had been a big party at Mackie Milkovich's house during spring half-term.  Everyone was either drunk or getting there, when he spotted Cher Lloyd for the first time, not that she really made an impression.  Niall had been too shy with girls, even then, and when Danielle had pushed him to talk to her, he was greeted by the girl puking up Smirnoff on his brand new Nike high tops.  
  
"For fuck's sake, Dan," he whined, throwing his fork down in protest.  No, this was not a fucking good idea.  
  
"She said she was sorry!" Danielle cooed before turning to Liam.  Niall could hear the faintest whisper of "I told you he wouldn't fuck her," in Liam's voice. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Anyways, didn't Harry fuck her that night?" he chirped, looking at him with innocent blue eyes.  He knew for a fact that he hadn't, but the list of Harry's lovers racked up so high that just about anyone could be on it.  
  
"The fuck, Harry?" Zayn shouted, directing all attention in the restaurant to them.  
  
Harry's smug, "I didn't fuck her," only earned him a punch in the throat before Zayn stormed out the restaurant.  
  
"Cheers, Niall," he snapped, slowly chasing after Zayn.  There was no real venom behind it, partially due to the fact that he was struggling a bit for air.  This was a typical morning between the five of them.  
  
Niall let out a laugh and finished off his last piece of sausage, looking over at a disapproving Danielle and Liam.  
  
"Oh c'mon, they make it so fun," he replied, standing up to make his way out as well.  He didn't get by without Danielle smacking him over the head.  
  
  
  
Louis Tomlinson looked at himself in the side mirror of his mum's car for the fifth time.  
  
"Bear, you look fine.  It's the first day of college.  Everyone's new."  
  
Louis sighed, shaking his head at his mother.  "Not really though, Mum.  They all grew up here.  Probably partied together."  He leaned back against the seat, lips pursed as he eyed the empty green.  Roll call had already started.  He'd be the center of attention anyway.  
  
His mum looked at him sympathetically, ruffling his chestnut hair.  "Well you can party too, right?  Swag masta from Doncasta?"    
  
Louis groaned, quickly stepping out of the car.  "Oh god, Mum, no.  Seriously?  Stop."  
  
"I told you if you ever came home drunk I'd use whatever you said against you for the rest of your life," she chimed sweetly, waving innocently at him.  
  
"Goodbye, Mum," he huffed before he slammed the door.  He took one more deep breath before slowly making his way across the college green.  
  
  
  
"Styles?"  
  
"Here," Harry answered, distracted by his now calmer boyfriend's hand.  It was back in its rightful place, resting high on his leg, and he turned to the boy with a cheeky grin before giving him a soft, loving kiss.  Not to say that he was in love.  
  
No. Harry understood the concept, but thought the real thing to be nothing but a pipe dream.  Love was just chemical.  A bond of pheromones that made people do and feel crazy, inexplicable things.  A waste, if you asked him.  
  
"Tibalt?"  "Here."  "Timony?"  "Here."  "Tinsley?"  "Here."  
  
This was getting boring.  Harry already knew all these people for the most part, and already knew how to assert his power.  His entrance alone had been somewhat rousing.  Arm slung loosely around a boy who looked at him like a god, his solid emerald eyes capturing the hearts of every girl in sight.  
  
Basically, he was the shit.  
  
"Tomlinson?"  
  
For the first time, dead silence.  The crowd stayed silent for a moment before a hushed buzz started to fill the room.  Who was this kid?  No one had spoke up to claim him as "coming" or "still on holiday".  Which only meant one thing.  
  
"Fresh meat, babe," Zayn whispered into his ear, nibbling lightly.  Harry smirked him, looking at Liam and Danielle in the row right below theirs.  
  
"Oi.  You heard anything about this kid?" he asked Liam.  His oldest friend only shook his head, shrugging.  "Your guess is as good as mine, mate."  
  
"Tomlinson?" Dean McCafferty repeated.  
  
Almost on cue, a lanky, bed-headed boy with calm blue eyes stumbled into the gymnasium, hands clutching his messenger bag nervously.  
  
"Erm.. here..." he mumbled lowly, looking up at the bleachers for only a moment before flushing and looking to the floor.  
  
Harry cocked an eyebrow, studying the boy intently.  He was definitely new.  After all, he noticed everyone, and he would've noticed someone at fit as this kid.  He only had a moment to himself to oogle before their eyes met for the first time.  They seemed to be even more mesmerizing looking straight on; the blue hue was heavy, but not overpowering.  It was like he had the ability to coax even the darkest secrets out of you.  The boy returned his gaze with a quirky grin.  
  
Fuck.  What was that think he had thought of earlier?  Chemistry?  
  
"Well Mr. Tomlinson, if you would grace us all with your presence and take a seat," the Dean huffed indignantly.  
  
The brown-haired boy didn't seam to mind, nodding his head curtly.  "Of course, sir."  
  
Roll call resumed soon after that, but Harry stopped listening, peaking a glance at the boy he only knew as Tomlinson between kisses with Zayn and laughing half-heartedly at any jokes cracked by the gang about those remaining on the attendance.  
  
Louis had barely made it to his locker before the feeling of being watched caused him to turn around hastily.  He jumped, shocked to find the curly haired boy from earlier standing right in front of him.  A person he could only assume was Curly's boyfriend was beside him.  With tan olive-colored skin and dreamy light brown eyes, anyone could see how he'd managed to land the hottest boy at Webberley.  
  
Shit.  Did he say hottest?  
  
"Uh… mate?  Hello?"  
  
Curly waved at him a few times, smirking as he did so.  The short brunette gave him a sinister glare.  Awesome, already on someone's bad side.  
  
"Uh, yeah.  Hi.  I'm... I'm Louis," he recovered, flicking his hair out of his face.  Awkwardly, Louis extended a hand in Curly's direction, relieved when he took it in his own.  
  
"Harry Styles," he replied with a winning smile.  They must've stared at each other for too long because the brunette beside him crossed his arms, clearing his throat.  
  
Finally looking away from Harry, Louis asked, "And you're...?"  
  
"Zayn," he replied coolly, not offering his own hand to shake, "Harry's boyfriend."  
  
Louis locked eyes with him for a moment, noting the obvious "back off" in his gaze.  Louis nodded subtly, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag.  
  
"Right well… I'll see you two around," he concluded, turning around swiftly.  Fuck.  How had he managed to get on the bad side and good side of the power couple on the first day?  
  
  
  
"He's a wanker!" Zayn snarled, sitting down with Harry at the lunch table.  He had not been able to shake their encounter with Louis earlier.  There was something he didn't like about him being around Harry.  It was clear that they were attracted to each other.  And the last thing he needed was to get suspended from school for fighting again.  
  
"Who's a wanker?" Niall asked with a mouthful of food.  
  
Liam frowned, "You really don't have any table manners, do you?"  
  
"That new kid form earlier.  The one Harry wants to fuck," Zayn snapped.  He had gotten a chicken sandwich today, his favorite, but couldn't really find his appetite now that he was pissed off again.  
  
"I do not want to fuck him, Zayn.  Don't be so melodramatic," Harry responded coolly as he stole one of his fries.  Zayn glared at him, but instantly regretted making eye contact.  Harry easily defused him with his bright green eyes and charming smile, and he didn't even try and reject the kiss that followed.  
  
"You're an arse," he mumbled against his boyfriend's lips.  Harry only smiled and kissed him again.  
  
"Fuckin' Ross and Rachel, I'm telling you," Danielle whispered.  Zayn only flipped her off as he continued kissing his boyfriend.  
  
  
  
Cher Lloyd sat herself next to the lone new kid at Webberly College, following his gaze to Harry Styles and Zayn Malik at the center of the cafe.  
  
"You don't want to do that," she warned, pulling out her compact mirror.  She carefully applied a new layer of bright red lipstick, looking over at the tall brunette beside her with black-rimmed eyes.  
  
She snorted when the boy looked her way, obviously confused.  
  
"Mess with Zayn and Harry, I mean."  Her perfectly waxed legs appeared much longer than they really were thanks to the magic of bright pink pumps.  
  
The boy sighed, "Not even going there, to be honest.  I've got a right challenge ahead of me just fitting in."  
  
Cher smiled at that.  She could relate to being on the outside.  After all, she had been in his position only two years prior.  
  
Extending a perfectly manicured hand, she said, "Cher."  
  
"Louis," he provided, giving a firm shake.  He paused for a moment, then turned towards her.  
  
"So do you like... know them or something?" he asked, eyes still on the table.  
  
Cher laughed, "Babes, everyone knows them.  But Danny, Liam's girlfriend, she's my best mate.  And I puked on the blond one's shoes once.  He's Niall.  We're supposed to fuck at a party this weekend."  
  
Louis nodded, though he was more confused than before.  
  
Rolling her eyes playfully, Cher pulled Louis up by the hand.  "Oh, babe.  You have so much to learn."  
  
  
  
"And that's Sian Mitchell.  She's a right bitch, but she'll trade you E for a blowie in heartbeat if you're ever in need," Cher whispered as they sat down in the back.  
  
Louis nodded, though he was only half listening.  In the two hours since he'd known Cher, she'd basically broken down each and every person they'd passed by in the hallway.  But the more he let her gossip, the more he could ask about Harry.  So far he'd learned that he was the most popular boy in school, super smart, and would fuck anyone willing.  He'd been dating Zayn for a year, and Zayn was mad crazy, so if you fucked Harry he could never find out or you'd be dead.  Also, his favorite food was fajitas.  
  
Turning his attention to the stocky man writing on the board, Louis read 'Aodhan Ballard', and nudged Cher slightly to get her to shush.  Last thing he needed was to be called out right away.  
  
"Right, fucking bollocks," the man cursed in a think Scottish accent, frowning at the class, "Name's Aodhan.  Today we're not doing shit on account that I'm tired and we have a whole year to learn material you'll all forget over summer holiday.  So let's start with names.  Stand up and introduce yourself along with a fact about you."  
  
Louis looked around, waiting for someone else to stand up and start the day.  It seemed other students felt the same way, until finally the sandy brown haired boy he'd seen Harry with earlier (Liam, he reminded himself), stood.  
  
"Um.  M'name's Liam," he started, biting down on his lip, "And uh... I've got two pet turtles."  
  
"Riveting," Aohdan replied sarcastically.  Nodding his head towards Zayn, he demanded, "You.  What's your name?"  
  
Zayn stood up confidently, smirking. "My name's Zayn, and I can put a condom on with my teeth."  
  
Aodhan's eyes seemed to widen significantly, as if he was picturing the visual himself.  It made Zayn slide down into his seat smugly, biting at Harry's neck.  
  
Coughing, Aodhan remarked, "Yes, well.  Congratulations.  I'm sure that'll get you far in life.  Next?"  
  
Louis grinned, shaking his head as people rose one by one.  He had to give Harry credit, his boyfriend was a firecracker.  With that one sentence Louis understood why people didn't want to fuck with Zayn and Harry.  Harry didn't really belong to anyone, but Zayn would cut apart anyone who thought otherwise.  It was their great game.  
  
"You, in the corner with the Bieber cut.  Up you go," Aodhan commanded.  It took Louis a moment to realize he was talking to him.  
  
"Oh, right.  Um, okay," he mumbled, standing up clumsily.  He hesitated for a moment, looking around the room at all the eyes on him.  Louis momentarily made eye contact with Harry, who gave him a sideways smirk.  He smiled back, before quickly looking away.  
  
"I'm Louis.  I'm new and... this year, I'm throwing caution to the wind."  
  
He looked at Harry through the corner of his eyes, his heart skipping a beat when the boy suppressed a grin, looking down at his desk.  
  
Louis couldn't help the good feeling he felt as he sat back down.  It was cut short, however, but Cher slapping him over the head.    
  
Mumbling, "Ow!" he turned to her indignantly, "What th'fuck was that for?"  
  
Cher shook her head.  "Wanker."  
  
  
  
"Oh fuck, Nialler.  Here comes your bird!" Zayn teased, making a kissy face in his direction as the small brunette rounded the corner.  Everyone gave Niall a playful shove as his cheeks reddened.  
  
"Fuck off," he mumbled, adjusting his backpack.  
  
Louis appeared behind her.  Zayn mumbled, "Fuck's sake," and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Black bitch!" she shouted, raising her arms high in the air.  
  
"White bitch!" Danielle responded, posing cheekily.   The two girls ran towards each other and embraced, Louis stopping awkwardly behind Cher.  
  
"Where are you fuckers off to?" Cher asked, pausing to wink at Niall for a moment.  He blushed even harder.  
  
"Going round mine.  My parents are still out of town," Liam replied, throwing an arm over Danielle's shoulder.  
  
"Safe!  Fancy two more?" she asked, pulling Louis forward, "Tommo over here's need a proper welcome, don'tya think?"  
  
"Well of course," Harry's deep voice quickly responded.  Louis bit down on the corner of his lip.  
  
"Right.  Any of you cunts got a spliff?" Cher chimed, slipping her hand into Niall's as they all pushed through the doors.  
  
Danielle let out a high-pitched laughed, looking towards Liam with a smile, and Harry and Zayn leaned all over each other as they made their way down the sidewalk.  
  
  
  
Louis laughed to the ceiling, letting out a smoky breath.  Music was blasting through Liam's living room, everyone on their feet and dancing.  He wrapped an arm around Cher's neck, sloppily kissing her cheek and she giggled, pushing him away.  To his left Niall was chugging the remnants of a Malibu bottle, awkwardly shuffling his hips.  
  
"Go fuck your boyfriend," he shouted to Cher.  She snorted, shaking her head.  "That's the weekend special."  
  
In the corner, Zayn and Harry were shot gunning, Zayn pulling Harry into a passionate kiss as he laughed away the remains.  Liam and Danielle slammed into a wall, heavily making out before Liam opened the door to some room, the two of them disappearing.  
  
"Woo!" Niall shouted, pulling Zayn towards him and Cher as they all danced around in a circle.  Louis shook his head, plopping down on the couch before taking a swig of vodka.  Harry soon sat beside him, a spliff dangling between his lips.  He offered it to Louis in exchange for the bottle, and he nodded in agreement, passing it over.  
  
Harry paused as he brought the rim to his lips, looking over at Louis with bright green eyes.  
  
"Welcome to Sheffield, Louis."  
  
Louis smiled, taking a long hit before he rested his head against the couch, eyes closed as he exhaled.  
  
Caution to the wind, right?


	2. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is the leader of his rag-tag group of friends, but at home he is anything but powerful. As he struggles to hide his home life from boyfriend, Zayn, he finds solace in Louis when they're paired together as lab partners. The two begin to spend a large amount of time together outside of the group, and their bond is strengthened when Louis becomes the first person in the gang to visit Harry's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The people portrayed in this story are characters based on, but in no way represent the members of One Direction, Cher Lloyd, and Danielle Peazer. This is fiction, and I do not own them.

"Fuck, harder," Zayn groaned against the brick wall.

Harry pressed a hand down hard against the small of his boyfriend's back, thrusting hastily. They needed to hurry up before someone came looking for them.  Not that Harry minded being caught by friends, but Zayn always fell out of the mood whenever it happened.

He let out a staggered groan, his hips slowing as he rested his head against Zayn's back.  He felt his boyfriend's body rumble with a small fit of laughter, discarding the condom far off in the alley as he pulled his pants up from his ankles.  Zayn turned around and threw an arm over his shoulder, grinning as he pulled Harry into a sloppy kiss.

"I love you," he mumbled, nipping at Harry's lower lip.

Without even thinking, he responded, "I love you, too."

Zayn smiled big, pulling him towards the warehouse entrance.

 

 

"Har-ray!" Niall shouted over the music, pulling him into an impromptu hug.  Harry laughed at his mate, shaking his head.  When Niall pulled back, he could see that his eyes were glazed over.

"What'ya on, mate?" he asked, laughing.

Niall shook his head to the music, bouncing up and down, "Fuck if I know!  Whoo!"

Harry let out a loud laugh, looking around the room for the rest of his friends.  Danielle and Cher were doing shots, Liam dangling all over his girlfriend as usual.  He could see Louis sitting beside Cher, pouring for her.  Their eyes met over the dance floor, and Louis gave him a sly grin, turning his attention back to the girls.  God, that kid was such a fucking mystery to him.

"Open wide," Zayn cooed, placing a sweet pill on his tongue.  Harry grinned and complied, slowly beginning to sway with the music.  He placed his hands on Zayn's hips, leaning down to capture his lips with his own.

 

 

"Zayn!  Zayn get up, we're late for Nanni's brunch!"

Harry stirred in bed, his arm bumping against a body he knew to be his boyfriend's.  Fuck, had he stayed the night last night?  By the feeling of dried sweat on his skin, he could only assume yes.  It then took him another moment to realize that his boyfriend's mother was on her way down the hall at that exact moment.

"Fuck!  Zayn!" Harry whispered, shoving at his shoulder. He grumbled, slapping at him.

"No, fuck off," he whined, pushing his face further into the pillow.

"You're fucking mum is coming!" he exclaimed, trying to find his underwear.

That seemed to get his attention, and he shot up quickly, "Fuck!  Fuck, shit!"

Harry rushed to put on his pants, throwing Zayn's boxers at him.

"Zayn?  Don't make me come in there!"

"Answer her!" Harry snapped softly, pulling on his shirt.

The turning of Zayn's doorknob stilled them both, before he quickly pushed Harry into his closet.

"Zayn, when I call you I expect you to answer me!" Trish scolded, barging into the room.  From his view, Harry could see that Zayn was standing awkwardly in the center of the room, and rolled his eyes.  _Way to look completely inconspicuous._

"Sorry, Mum.  You know I don't get up on Sundays, I don't even know why we're going."

"Well you're up now!  Go on and shower so we can leave, yeah?  And open a window!  It smells god awful in here!"

The door closed, and soon after that Zayn opened his closet door.

"You really need to stop falling asleep after sex.  It's a bad habit," he reprimanded, encircling Harry's neck with loose arms.  Harry leaned down and kissed his boyfriend, teasing the top of his mouth with his tongue as he pulled him in closer.

"Mmm, Harry," Zayn mumbled as he kissed down his neck, "Harry stop, we can't.  My mum's gonna kill me."

Harry's lips dragged up his jawline, alternating between sucking and biting, "What's ten more minutes?  We could have sex in the shower... all that heat..."

He smiled when his boyfriend's moan reverberated over his lips.

"Window, asshole!" he replied in a huff, pushing Harry towards the open frame reluctantly.  Harry only smiled devilishly at him before throwing one leg out the window.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Zayn exclaimed, turning Harry back around.  He kissed him hard, biting down on his lower lip.  "Fuck you later," he whispered.

Harry rolled his eyes, smiling as he shimmied down the gutter.  He shook his head as he walked down the street, lighting his morning cigarette as he rounded the corner, in search of breakfast.

 

 

Harry was busy looking at his phone as he walked into the corner bakery, ordering his coffee and bag of biscuits without even glancing at the person behind the counter.

"That'll be four pounds fifty pence," a familiar voice exclaimed.

Harry slowly looked up, smiling when he saw that it was none other than Louis Tomlinson.

"Louis, Louis, Louis.  I didn't know you worked in a bakery," he exclaimed with a smirk.  Harry stood off to the side, letting one of the boy's co-workers take a woman's order.  Louis smiled at him, slowly preparing his coffee.

"You never asked, Haz," he replied, giving him a quick glance before looking back at his work.  Harry raised an eyebrow, surprised by the nickname.  No one had called him that in years.  Not since his father.

Louis must've noticed the change in his expression, because he paused in the middle of pouring his coffee.  "Shit, sorry.  Do you not like nicknames?"

Harry shook his mind clear of thoughts of his dad, quickly recovering with a smile.  "I don't really mind it coming from you."

Louis blushed at that, turning around to grab his biscuits.  Harry eyed the boy carefully.  He hadn't met someone so intriguing and beautiful since, well… since he'd met Zayn.  But even Zayn couldn't compare to Louis.  There was something about him that was absolutely mesmerizing.

Harry gave a warm smile as Louis handed him his baked goods.

"And here's your coffee," he exclaimed, stretching his arm over the counter.  Harry went to grab the cup, and their fingers touched.  It was strange, the feeling that went through him.  Louis’ fingers were warm, and they shot electricity up his arm.  There was a weird feeling in his stomach that he absolutely did not like.

"Um... gotta go," he said hastily, taking his coffee before rushing out the shop.  Harry promptly pulled out a cigarette and lit it, completely flustered.  He did not get butterflies.  Ever.

This kid was seriously fucking with him.

 

 

"Fucking christ, Richard!  I'm trying and trying and trying here and you're giving nothing back!"

Harry paused as he opened the front door, looking between his mother and stepfather as they abruptly ended their conversation.  His mum easily bounced from an angry wife to a loving mother.

"Oh!  Harry, dear!  How are you?  I made you some porridge, wasn't sure when you'd be home from Zayn's," she beamed, kissing him on the forehead.  Harry raised his eyebrows with a fake smile, pushing past his stepfather as he walked into the kitchen.  He was always in the mood for his mum's porridge; she cut up little apple pieces and threw them in every single time.

Richard, the bastard, grumbled to his mother about Zayn.  Harry didn't even have to turn around to know what he was saying.  The fact that Harry was into boys and girls was one of the many arguments his mum and stepdad had.  Harry himself wasn't sure why his mother even married the man.

"Sweetie, your father and I--"

"Not my father," Harry interrupted pointedly, challenging Richard to speak with his eyes. He didn't.

"Right... Rich and I are going to a counseling meeting and then on holiday, so we'll be gone for a few days.  You'll be good on your own, yeah?  I left 200 quid in the rickety drawer for you.  Don't use it all in one night," his mother babbled quickly.  Harry could tell that something most definitely wasn't right between her and Richard, something much more than usual.  He nodded, inspecting his mother before she walked out the door.

Richard stopped short, turning around with a scowl, "Your mum might be fuckin' accepting of your faggoty bullshit, but I'll not have you and your bum boy prancing around my house, you get me?"

"Of course, Richard," he replied sweetly, "We wouldn't want my gay sex infecting your house with homosexuality.  That'd be utterly terrible if you suddenly came down with a case of the dicks."  He smiled innocently, snorting as he growled and slammed the door.

"Wanker," he mumbled to himself, pulling out his cell phone.

_200 quid pity money from Mum.  Nando's anyone?_

 

 

"Oh Harry, cheers mate.  Just... fucking cheers," Niall exclaimed around a mouthful of chicken.  Harry rolled his eyes and flashing a smile at Zayn, whose hand was subtly creeping up his leg.

"Do you two ever stop, mate?" Liam asked with mild disgust on his face.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "How rude the pot is to the kettle."

Liam blushed at that, Danielle smiling and kissing him softly on the cheek.

"It's okay, babes, he's only jealous of our love," she cooed, running a hand through his hair.

Harry snorted, and Zayn was quick to jump in.  "You ain't got nothin' on me and Harry," he retorted with a smile, looking up at him with beaming eyes.

Sometimes Harry felt bad for dragging Zayn along in his sadness.  He hadn't truly felt happy since the day his Father died.  Even with stage four cancer, the man had laughed and smiled. He couldn't remember much about his Dad now.  After all, he'd been seven when he passed.  But he remembered that his Dad had made him feel loved more than anyone else had.  Even now, with a boy basically worshiping him, he couldn't let himself be loved.  Zayn looked at him like he had created the stars, and it wasn't enough.  It wouldn't ever be.

"Oi, where's Cher?" Niall asked hesitantly. Everyone paused to give him a cheeky look, the blond boy rolling his eyes, "Fuck off, will ya?  I just mean she's been 'round like... all the time lately.  And now she's not here."

"I think she's gone 'round Tommo's," Danielle piped up, filing through her text messages to confirm her thoughts.

Niall frowned, "And we didn't invite them?  Why?"

"I dunno.  Why didn't we, Harry?" Liam questioned, looking over expectantly.  He had a feeling that the boy knew his secret already.  How the fuck did he always do that?

He shrugged coolly, biting into his chicken, "I asked, they didn't respond."

Liam's face called bullshit, but he let it slide, turning his attention back towards Danny.

"Right, whatevs.  He's a right tosser, anyways," Zayn huffed.  Harry only wished it were true.

 

 

Harry successfully avoided Louis all week until Wednesday in chemistry.

"Tomlinson and Styles," Professor Ginnich stated definitively.  Harry perked up, eyes wide with uncharacteristic fear. 

"Um, no.  See, that's just not fucking possible," he exclaimed, laughing nervously.  He purposefully avoided Louis' stare.

Ginnich frowned, crossing his arms, "Mr. Styles, I'll not tolerate that language in my class.  All pairs are final.  If you have a problem, you're free to take a failing grade and sit outside every day."

Harry leaned back in his chair unimpressed.  He felt the heat radiating off Louis as he cautiously slid next to him, the Professor explaining what exactly they'd be doing for the next three days.  Awkwardly, Louis tried to start a conversation.

"Any reason you're avoidin' me like the fuckin' plague, mate?" he asked softly.  Harry refused to look at him for a long moment before gaining his cool bravado and turning with a signature smirk.

"What ever do you mean, darling?" he replied cheekily.

Louis shook his head, "Why do you always do that?  Deflect with your bullshit attitude.  It's not real.  It's not you."

Harry's smile faltered, before disappearing all together as he turned back to face the front board.  "Piss off, mate," he snapped harshly, trying desperately to keep his emotions under control.  The more time he spent around this kid, the more he started to crumble from years and years of work.  Work to keep everyone at a distance, even his best mates.  Louis was picking him apart like a poorly tuned automobile.

"Hazza--"

" _Don't_... call me that," he whisper-yelled, giving Louis a stone face.

They didn't talk the rest of class.

 

 

"Harry, what the fuck?" Zayn exclaimed in annoyance as he dragged the boy into the washroom.

"Shut up," he commanded, pulling Zayn into a bruising kiss.  The thing about Zayn, the best thing about him, was that he never questioned Harry.  Ever.  He always assumed there was a method to his madness, a reason behind every action.  In actuality, he liked the control.  No-- he _craved_ it.  Zayn was his and belonged to no one else.  He could lay claim to him at any moment, anywhere, any way he wanted.

Zayn never said no, and it was good, _so good_ for him because it was the only thing in his life that he could count on; the blind support of his boyfriend was what he thrived on.  It might not be love, but it was close enough that Harry could pretend he wasn't just using him to fill a void; could pretend that when he pressed the boy into the sink harshly, yanking his pants down, that it meant more than a desperate fuck in the school washroom trying to erase the feelings bubbling in his stomach.

"Fuck," Zayn whimpered, hands braced against the edge of the sink.  Harry gave a particularly hard thrust and his hand shot out to the mirror, a deep moan pushing past his lips. Harry grunted, eyes closed, breathing in _Zayn, Zayn, Zayn_ , and he felt like he was coming back down to earth and away from the alien planet that was Louis Tomlinson.

Someone came into the bathroom then, stopped in their tracks at the sight.  Zayn, his amazingly bitchy boyfriend, looked up and snapped immediately,  "Get the _fuck_ out!"

Soon after, Harry came with a shaky breath, and he wrapped a hand around Zayn to bring him off, reveling in his high pitched whine.

 

 

Harry didn’t mean to run into Louis again, he really didn’t.  It was all a series of unfortunate events.  The kid who walked in on him and Zayn had the nerve to call him a poof, and Zayn ended up in the Dean's office.  Liam and Danielle went to early dinner with his dad.  Cher was off shopping and had dragged Niall along with his stupid puppy eyes.  And so he was sentenced to a long walk straight home.  Annoyingly, it started with the realization that he was completely out of cigarettes.

"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath.  He had left his wad of pity cash at home.

Someone appeared next to him, hand outstretched with an open pack, a cigarette already pulled out, waiting for him to take it.  Harry looked up, rolling his eyes when he realized who exactly it was.

"For fuck's sake, leave me _alone_!" he said crossly, taking the fag nonetheless.

Louis snorted, awkwardly smiling, "You really hate being transparent to someone, don't you?"

Harry scoffed, taking a long drag, "You don't know shit about me, mate."

"Maybe... maybe not," Louis replied with a shrug, inhaling at the filter of his own cigarette.

Harry stared at him for a long time, the two of them smoking silently.  It bothered him that Louis was so... brave around him.  Most people walked on tiptoes in his presence.   Excluding Zayn, of course, but he challenged Harry by principle of the matter.  Louis challenged him without even trying.

"What'ya playin' at?" Harry asked darkly, throwing his fag off into the street, "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Louis followed suit, discarding his fag in the same direction.  Shyly, he shoved his hands into his pockets, "I dunno.  I guess I just... no one really knows you, do they?  Well no one really knows me either so... maybe we could just... know each other?"

Harry stared at Louis quietly for a long moment.  There was that feeling again, the one in his stomach telling him that he should fuck off and stay at the same time.  What was another shot in the dark?

"You wanna come 'round mine?" he blurted out, surprising even himself.  No one went to his house, ever.  Not even Liam and Niall.

Louis nodded, "Yeah, safe."

They walked side by side.

 

 

Harry stood awkwardly in the foyer of his house, eyeing Louis with caution. The boy seemed amazed at his home. 

"Wow, it's so... _posh_ ," he commented, baffled.

Harry snorted, "Actually, it's all rather cheap imitations.  My stepdad likes to keep up appearances.  Like he's fooling anyone."

Louis smirked, fingers running along each surface, as if memorizing them.

"You don't sound too fond of him," he stated casually, looking about before turning to face Harry again. 

Harry shrugged, slowly walking forward, "I'm not fond of much anything."

Louis smirked, shaking his head, "There you go with that fake bravado again."

Harry inspected him with intent green eyes, pausing for a moment before he let his shoulders relax.  "He's my second stepdad, and a right arsehole."

"Second?" he responded, raising an eyebrow, "What happened to the first?"

"Dead," Harry stated, voice void of emotion.

"And your real dad?"

"Also dead."

Louis nodded, frowning.  "Shitty," he replied softly.  He didn't elaborate, eyes full of understanding that Harry had never experienced before.

"S'whatever," he mumbled, eyes downcast.  He didn't look up for a long while, and when he finally did, it was Louis’ finger pushing up his chin.

"Hey... I get it.  I really, really do," he said softly, pulling Harry into a tight hug.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed tightly, refusing to cry.  "Shit," he mumbled under his breath.  _Shit_ , he thought, because this kid was getting under his skin.

 

 

On Thursday, Louis called him at half-past seven and told him they were bunking off and heading out to Scarborough.

"With what fucking car, you git?" he snapped groggily.  There were few things he hated more than someone waking him before his alarm did.

"Didn't you say your mum and stepdad were out?" 

Harry could hear the mischief in his voice.  He groaned, realizing what plan was formulating in the boy's head. 

"Oh, fuck you, Tomlinson."

 

 

They arrived in Scarborough way too early for his liking, but Louis made up for it by taking him out to breakfast and not saying anything until he'd had two cups of coffee and finished half his stack of pancakes.

"You're on edge this morning," Louis said.  It wasn't a question, but an observation.

Harry dismissed the comment, looking at him with a warning glance, "It's not really your fucking business though, is it?"

Louis shrugged, digging into his fry up.  His lack of response to his mood only flustered Harry more.  People cowered at him when he used that voice, but Louis didn't.  Sighing deeply, he threw his fork down on his plate in a huff, crossing his arms and he leaned back against his seat.

"For fuck's sake!  What is with you?  I'm nice and you don't fuck off.  I'm rude and you don't fuck off.  Do you _ever_ fuck off?!" he exclaimed in a low tone, glaring.

Louis shook his head, his blue eyes burying into Harry's soul.  "You don't scare me, Harry Styles.  And honestly?  If you really wanted me to fuck off, I'd be gone by now.  But you and I both know you like the company.  ‘Cause you haven't looked at your phone once all morning and I know for a fact you've got at least two texts."

Harry stared back at Louis, trying to pretend like he wasn't completely frazzled.  In actuality, he felt a threat that he hadn't felt in a long time.  Like someone could actually win at his game.  It was partially impressive, but mostly terrifying.  He needed to get out of this situation, keep the conversation moving as to avoid the seriousness of everything going on here.

"C'mon," he said, pushing away from the table, "Things to see, parties to crash."

Louis isn't too far behind.

 

 

The day was a blur of pills and swirling colors and more pills.  Harry was almost completely sure he hadn’t had this much fun in years, not even with the gang.  With them he was always in control and hardly allowed himself to get fucked up; it was easier for people to see the cracks within if your guard was down.  But with Louis it was all a laugh.  They hardly talked about anything of substance, just ran in and out of stores, even managing to walk out of a party shop covered in ridiculous costume accessories.  They stopped at a park and rested on a bench, Harry looking over at Louis with a smile that reaches his eyes.

"Fucking... you're crazy, Tomlinson," he exclaimed, taking in his appearance: comically large sunglasses, a feathered sombrero, and a large array of Mardi Gras beads around his neck.

Louis shrugged in response, standing up on the bench, "I walk on the wild side!"

"Get the fuck down, Lou!" he demanded, shaking his head.

Louis let out a laugh, loud and full, falling into Harry's lap.  His legs straddled either side of him, hands balancing on Harry's shoulders.  "Whoa!" Louis giggled, looking down at him through the fringe of his bangs.  Harry rolled his eyes playfully.

"You're a right mess, you know that?" he scolded softly, brushing his hair out the way with his fingertips.  Louis leaned into the touch, the skin of his cheek brushing against the palm of Harry's hand.

"Haz," he whispered, softly smilingly. 

Harry smiled back, feeling like they were floating on a cloud.  "Yes, Tommo?"

"Haz," he repeated, laughing as he leaned in slightly.  The tension slowly changed from friendly flirting to serious need, Harry's breath hitching as Louis stopped short of a kiss.  "Hazza," he mumbled, almost inaudible now.  Harry let his eyes flutter closed, his hands resting high on Louis' waist.  Their foreheads brushed together, and the contact made it difficult for Harry to swallow.

They sat like that for some time, Louis’ fingers brushing against his face, rubbing back and forth.  In that moment Harry felt at peace, the wind passing his ears with a soothing melody.  They must've been there for a while, before the voice of a middle-aged woman woke them from the trance.

"Oi!  Bugger off, ya knob jockeys!  I got my kids in here, and-- are you little fuckers high?!  I'm calling the police!"

Opening his eyes, Harry looked over at the woman and laughed, looking back at Louis.  "Feel like getting arrested?"

Louis snorted, "Not in this lifetime."  He pulled Harry up, and they ran out of the park together, hand in hand.

 

 

Harry woke up in the backseat of his mum's car, tangled with Louis.  There was the distinct taste of puke in his mouth, and glitter all over his clothes and hair.  A look at his phone told him that he'd missed ten calls and over twenty text messages.  Harry groaned, looking up at Louis’ face above him.  He smiled to himself, poking at his cheeks until the boy stirred, looking back at him.

Louis smiled softly, running his fingers through Harry's curls.  "Rough night, mate?"

Harry snorted, "You fuckin' tell me."  He sat up after a moment, trying and failing to dust the glitter off his chest.  "What the fuck did we do last night?" he wondered aloud. 

Louis sat up then as well, looking through his pockets.  "Not sure, but I'm pretty sure I am now broke.  I think we went to a party?  With lots of drugs.  So very many drugs."

Harry grinned, lighting a spliff before offering it to Louis.  The smoked together in silence for a while, just smirking at one another and occasionally laughing. 

Louis took a long drag before ashing it out the window and asking, "What was your dad like?"

Harry paused, contemplating telling Louis something so personal.  He hasn't ever really talked about his dad.  The only person who even really knew about him was Liam, but that was only because he was there back then.  It was his dad and Mr. Payne who had made the Styleses and the Paynes good friends.  He sighed as he looked down at his hands.

"He was..." he paused, clearing his throat, "I don't remember much, y'know?  Just little things... he used to pick me up by my feet and carry me around upside down.  And I'd just... scream my head off havin' a right laugh, coz I didn't think life could get any better back then.  He taught me how to read, how to ride a bike..."

By now, Louis had finished off the spliff and was leaning towards Harry, legs crossed together.  He continued on.

"And then when I was six, he got really sick... He got sick real quick.  We though he'd caught a bad bug, but then um... then the doctors came back and said he had pancreatic cancer," Harry abruptly stopped talking, feeling himself getting choked up.  A comforting hand on his ankle spurred him on.  "And I thought, he'll be fine.  My dad's invincible, surely he can get over cancer with some medicine like I did when I was sick."  Harry furrowed his eyebrows, his voice quivering, "And then one day my mum was crying, and I just didn't know why.  I told her Dad would be fine.  And she just told me to go talk to him, and be sure to say ‘I love you.’  I didn't understand.  I just thought he was going for more chemo, y'know?  So I sat with my dad, and he read me one last story.  Gave me one last hug and kiss, and I told him I loved him... and the next day he was gone."

"Oh, Harry," Louis mumbled softly, sniffling as he pulled him into a long hug.  Harry realized then that his face was wet, and that he'd been crying.  Louis was crying, too, he thought to himself.  No one had ever cried _for_ him before.  Liam had been too young to understand when his dad died.  And then there was his first stepdad...

He felt the words pouring out of him, beyond his own control.  "And when my mom married Joe, I thought everything would be okay. I'd have a dad again.  But when I was thirteen, he pushed me out the way of a car and he died, and everybody just fucking dies on me and I don't fucking understand _why_?"

Louis squeezed his arms around him, the warmth of his body engulfing Harry in a safe little cocoon.  "Shhh," Louis hushed softly, running his hand through his hair, "You'll be alright, lad.  You'll be alright."

Harry held on tight and hoped that Louis was right.

 

 

Harry pulled up to the Tomlinson residence with his companion right at his side, their hands locked together since they'd left Scarborough.  It was just getting dark outside.  Jay Tomlinson was sitting right there waiting for her son, arms crossed and face looking stern.

"Oh shit," Louis mumbled under his breath, quickly stepping out the car.

"Louis William Tomlinson, have you gone fucking mental?!  Did you lose your head somewhere between Sheffield and Doncaster?!" she yelled, more colorful language coming from her mouth as Louis approached slowly.

"Uh, Mum.  Mum... Mum!" he exclaimed, finally silencing her.  Scratching the back of his head, he added, "Erm... I was out with a friend... With um... with my friend Harry?"

"I don't give a monkey's arse who he is, you are in deep shit.  Just the deepest of the deep of shit!" she replied, pulling Louis into a tight hug.  Despite her anger, she still kissed her son on the forehead, hugging him close.  "You had me worried sick, you selfish little wanker."

Slowly rising from the car, Harry stood awkwardly in front of the two of them, smiling softly as Jay looked up at him.  "Um... hi?  I'm Harry.  It's uh... It's my fault we're a day late.  My stupid car broke down on the way back, took all night to get it all sorted."

He gave the raven-haired woman his best innocent look, feeling confident as she nodded her head.

"Right then, _Harry_.  You fancy a cup of tea for your troubles?  I'd love to talk about it in greater detail," she responded, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded curtly, opening the car door.  "I'd honestly love to, but I've got to get this car back to my mum.  I'll take a rain check, though?"

"Right you will," she replied.

Harry nodded at them with a smile before pulling out into the street.  A few minutes after he left, his phone buzzed with a text; it was from Louis.

_She likes you. :)_

Harry snorted and laughed.

 

 

Harry walked into his house, smoking his fifth cigarette of the day, hardly noticing his mother and stepfather sitting at the kitchen table.  He was halfway up the stairs when he heard Richard's grating voice booming down the hall.

"Oi!  You get your queer arse back down here right fucking now!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry made his way towards the kitchen, cocking his head to the side.  "How could I resist such a _sexy_ voice such as your own?  Nothing like a good hate fuck."

Richard growled, standing up abruptly, "You wanna fucking play big boy?  Cause I'll play!"

"Oh, I fucking dare you, horse fucker!" he snapped.

"Harry, please, don't antagonize him," his mother said softly, placing a hand on his hip.

Betrayed, Harry pulled away from her.  "No!  _Fuck_ him!  He has no right to talk to me like that, and you're fucking _defending_ him?!  He's a fucking tosser, Mum!  And you don't even like him!  You only married him so I'd have a father!  Newsflash, I've had two, and he'll never be half the man they were!"

"You watch your fuckin' mouth!" Richard shouted.

"Richard, please!"

"No, you know what?" Harry scoffed, shaking his head, "He's just pissed because he'll never be someone I respect.  Here's some food for thought, arsehole: respect is earned.  And I certainly don't give respect to dozy fuckers like you who think just because you've got big arms and a tiny cock--"

Everything seemed to slow down as Richard's hand came down hard across his face.

"Richard, stop!" his mum exclaimed.

"You!  You shut the fuck up!  It's your fault he's this way."

Reeling, Harry drew his arm back and landed a punch right on Richard's nose.  "Don't you _ever, ever_ talk to my mum like that, you bloody fucking twat!"

"Both of you, stop!  I can't-- I'm pregnant, I can't have this fucking stress all the time!"

Suddenly, Harry's attention switched from his stepfather to his mum.  "What?" he exclaimed, voice broken.

She paused, looking at him softly, "I was trying to tell you, but you were just... you two never stop fighting."

He looked between Richard and his mother, shaking his head in disbelief.  "With him... With him!"  Harry felt himself begin to cry, the emotions from earlier still fresh.  "What about Joe?  What about _Dad_?  How could you... with him?  How could you?!”

His mom was crying, too, now, Richard finally silent in the background.  "Oh, sweetie.  They're gone.  They're gone and there's nothing I can do."

"There's something you never should've done!  You married him.   You spit on their fucking graves!  Now you're having his baby?  His fucking _baby_?" Harry cried, throwing an empty mug on the counter down on the floor.

" _Fuck_ you.  Fuck you both!"

Harry turned around and ran.  Ran and ran until he couldn't anymore and bile rose in his throat, puking violently into a trash bin.  He ran his hands through his hair, breathing quickly as he tried to stop his oncoming panic attack.  The sound of his phone ringing seemed to bring him down.

"Hello?" he croaked, holding an arm around his stomach.

"Mate, where ya been?  Massive rave tonight, you comin' or what?"

Liam.  He sighed with relief.  Liam would listen to him, would understand.  "Yeah.  Yeah I'm coming, I just... I really need to talk to you, Li," he explained, voice desperate.

Liam seemed to pick up on his tone right away, "Yeah, no problem, mate.  Just get here, okay?"

Harry hung up the phone and ran.

 

 

Harry arrived to see waves and waves of hands flashing through the neon lasers, grabbing the nearest drink from someone and downing it quickly.  He had chugged five by the time he'd finally found the gang.  Harry was headed towards Liam when a very angry Zayn stepped in front of him.

"You _fucking_ prick!" he snapped, face stiff, "You don't call me back, don't text me back for a day, and then just _waltz_ in here like everything's cool?  Are you fucking dense?"

Harry rolled his eyes, trying to push past him.  "Look, Zayn, I was just out with Louis and got lost for a bit, it's not a big deal."

"With _Louis_?  Louis?!  Why th' _fuck_.. are you fucking kidding me!"  Zayn pushed Harry, and Harry immediately got in his face.

"You wanna fuckin' push me again?" he shouted.  He could feel a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

"Whoa, Harry chill!" Niall eased, "What's gotten into you?!"

Harry felt the panic rising up again, pushing past them both.  Liam seemed to finally notice him, calling his name, but Harry didn't look back.  He shoved his way to the bathroom, barging in, breathing heavily.

"Harry?"

The sound of Louis voice calmed him, even if for a moment.  He stalked towards him quickly, Louis backing up before he ran into a wall.  "Haz, what are you--"

And just like that, he slammed his lips against Louis’, kissing him like it was the last thing he'd ever do.  Harry wrapped his fingers around his neck, sliding them up over his face as he tilted his head for a better angle.  Louis moaned in the back of his throat, and Harry pressed even closer.

"Harry, no!" Liam yelled, pulling him off the other boy.  Louis looked like he'd seen a ghost, still in shock from what had just taken place.  "Harry, no," Liam said, calmer as he pulled his best mate into a hug.  With the bass shaking the walls and the sound of the bathroom door closing with Louis on the other side, Harry finally broke down, sobbing into Liam's shoulder.

 

 

Harry slowly turned the key to his home in the lock, pushing the door open haphazardly.  The silence in the house was deafening.  When he finally closed the door behind him, he could see his mother at the kitchen table, watching her tea steep in silence.  He sighed, walking towards her before sitting down. 

After a long moment, he asked, "Where's Richard?"

She laughed sadly, shaking her head, "Fucked off somewhere, I suppose.  Left a note.  How considerate."

Harry frowned, looking down at his hands, "I'm so sorry, Mum.  It's all my fault."

"No," she denied, "It's not.  We were on edge as it was.  Guess a baby was just the final straw."

He nodded, biting down on his lower lip.  After a moment, he said, "I think I'm falling for someone... someone who's not Zayn."

Annie smiled to herself, "You think you were ever gonna fall for that boy?"  She laughed softly, "You were never going to love him.  Need him, yes, but love him?  Not ever."

Harry hesitated before replying, "I'm so scared... what if he leaves?  What if he… _dies_?"

His mother smiled at him, placing her hand over his, "Everybody dies, sweetie.  But everybody has to live, too."

He smiled at that, eventually placing an awkward hand over her stomach.  "D'you think it's a boy or a girl?"

They chatted amicably at the table, and Harry felt like he was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow. Can I just say, thank you to all you guys who read the first chapter. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive. I'm really so very proud of this fic and I just want to thank everyone who's spreading the word because it really means a lot to me. On a different note, you can find all chapters posted on my tumblr as well, and word up to Caroline for beta'ing this chapter.


	3. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has finally been accepted into the gang as one of their own, despite Zayn's continued dislike of him. But there's is a lot left unsaid after Harry's impromptu kiss. And if Liam has anything to say about it, Louis will keep his feelings to himself and the balance of the group will remain intact. However, it might be impossible with the thick of chemistry brewing between him and Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The people portrayed in this story are characters based on, but in no way represent the members of One Direction, Cher Lloyd, and Danielle Peazer. This is fiction, and I do not own them.

Louis Tomlinson awoke to a small body jumping on him, the screech of " _Louis get up, Louis get up_!"  a constant mantra for a good two minutes as he tried to force himself awake.  He'd been out late last night, which was a big mistake as he was now ten minutes behind if Lottie was here wake him.

"Fuck's sake, Lots, I get it, I'm comin'.  Go run a bath for Daisy and Pheebs, kay?" he mumbled, pulling off his sleep mask.  He instantly regretted cursing at her, the look on her face making him sigh.  She turned and rushed out the attic he'd been calling his room.  The house had only three bedrooms, but he hadn't wanted to force all four of his sisters in one space.  Instead, Lottie and Fizz stayed in a room together with the twins' nursery being the smallest room in the house.

Louis pulled on the nearest pair of jeans and a loose jumper, hopping that the laundry would be dry this morning.  He'd told his mother to turn it on before she'd left for her latest temp job as the late-night desk clerk at a hotel, but he doubted that she had remembered.

Trudging downstairs, he knocked heavily on the door to the elder girls' room, shouting, "Fizz!  You better be getting ready in there!"

"Piss off!" she exclaimed.  Where the fuck had she learned to speak like that?

"Another word and you'll be getting bologna for lunch!" he threatened, grabbing clothes off the floor as he started to fill a basket with things that needed to be washed.  He hurried himself towards the machine, only to discover the clothes from last night still inside.

"Fucking bullocks," he huffed, throwing the clothes into the dryer in annoyance.  Phoebe would not be happy that her favorite jacket was not wearable.  Starting the next cycle, he began to work on setting up breakfast, cracking four eggs into a bowl for whipping.  

"Bath's ready, Louis," Lottie yelled, running downstairs.

"No running!" he reprimanded, kissing his sister's forehead, "Start breakfast for you and Fizzy, yeah? A scramble and toast."

"But we had scramble and toast _yesterday_ ," Lottie replied with a frown.

Louis sighed, pushing her hair out her eyes.  "Mum's check from the pub doesn't come in until Friday.  You're just gonna have to wait, babe."  Louis tried his best not to feel guilty as his sister sauntered over to the stove and started breakfast, hurrying upstairs to grab the twins.  

"Loudee!" Daisy shouted from the floor, outstretching her arms.  Louis smiled softly, picking her up before grabbing the quieter Phoebe by the hand and guiding them to the bath.

"Did you sleep good, love?" he asked Phoebs, helping each of them remove their clothes.  Sticking his hand in the water, he frowned at the slight overheat. There was no time to make it colder for the girls.  Which meant they'd be cranky this morning.

He wasn't wrong; Phoebe started up instantly, with Daisy aiding her in a fit.  He tried his best not to get frustrated and at least get their hair fully washed before letting them run out the bath.  When they finally calmed down he brought the two of them downstairs, sifting through the clean basket for something for them to wear.

"Phoebe doesn't like that one," Fizz warned him from the table, mouth full of food.  She was reading the morning paper.

"She likes it just fine.  And since when do you read the paper?" he asked, trying and failing to get Phoebe to wear the shirt in question.  She threw it across the room.

Fizz shrugged, "I read.  And I told you so."

Louis shot a glare at his younger sister and put the twins in their booster chairs, dumping some scrambled eggs on Daisy's plate before giving Phoebe some apple slices.

"Lottie, Mrs. Hamilton called.  Said you've not been turning in your homework?" Louis questioned, pulling out the supplies to make sandwiches.  They were out of lunchmeat -- again -- which mean it was PB&J day.

Lottie only shrugged, pushing her food around her plate, "I've been working."

Louis stopped spreading jam on a slice of bread for a moment, looking at her with concern.  "Working?"

Lottie blushed.  "Yes.  Mrs. Gendry across the street gives me twenty quid a week to keep her house tidy, Mr. Landers gives me a tenner to walk his dogs Monday through Thursday, and Ms. Carrington gives me fifteen to watch her son every day after school--"

"Lottie, no," he said, folding up their lunch bags, "You don't need to be doing all that.  I have a job, and Mum has a job, and--"

"And it's not enough, Louis!  You know it isn't.  And it's not like it's hard work, okay?  It's just some stuff to add to the squirrel fund," she replied, looking down at the table.  Despite how much he hated it, he knew that it was true.  How long had Lottie been helping them without him knowing?  How much money had his nine-year-old sister snuck into the jar when he wasn't looking?

A beep from outside signaled Jay Tomlinson's arrival, just enough time to drop them all off and then speed off to her next job.

Lottie looked up at him, fear in her eyes, "Please don't tell Mum!  She'll make me quit.  I can't quit, Louis, we _need_ the money!"

Louis sighed, rushing to clean off the twins before picking them up one by one.

"No more skipping homework.  One more call, and I swear, I'll--"

"Thank you, Loulou!" she exclaimed, hugging his leg.  Louis sighed as they all piled out the door and into the car, his Mum greeting them all with kisses.

 

 

"Babe, I'm not being funny, but you look like steamed shit."

Louis rolled his eyes at Cher's comment, sliding into his seat beside her in their usual spot.  Ever since the first week of school they'd migrated over towards Harry and the gang in psychology, all of them sitting in a row.

"Overslept this morning.  Again," he replied, dry swallowing the adderall she'd scored for him that morning.  Louis didn't particularly like taking drugs before school, but lately it was adderall or going from class to class half sleep.

"Fuck me, Tommo," she exclaimed, her bracelets clanking as she laid her arm down on the table, "D'you work late at the bakery again?  What th'fuck goes on in there?"

Louis sighed, "I need the hours.  Rent’s gone up 50 quid."

Cher frowned, placing a warm hand over his own.  "Babes, I told you I could help.  D'know how easy it would be to sell 300 quid in one night?  The whole gang, bruv.  We could--"

"What you on about?" Zayn asked as he rolled his eyes, sliding down into his seat.  Harry was soon in the seat right beside him.

Cher gave Zayn a snarl and snapped, "Helpin' out my mate.  D'you mind, prick?"

Her attitude had clearly caught Zayn by surprise, but before he had the chance to snap back at her, Liam came and sat in the seat between them.  

"Can't we all just get along?" he asked playfully, smiling.

"I was just sayin'-- Louis here could make mad cash sellin' at Reneé Richard's party this weekend, and that we could help him out," Cher piped up.  Cleverly deducing that the success depended on Harry's feeling on the whole thing, she asked, "What d'ya think Harry?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Only if I get a cut."

"Oh, fuck you, bruv.  Our friend's in fuckin' need and you're takin' the fuckin' piss?  Shove a cock right up your--"

"--Ms. Lloyd, if you could possibly use some words found in the dictionary before noon, that'd be quite lovely."

Cher looked at Aodhan with a scowl, giving him the finger, and class erupted in laughter.

 

 

Louis sat outside the school during lunch period with a fag between his lips, watching all the kids running in and out of the school.  They all looked so carefree.  None of them ever had to worry about making rent, or how to make enough money to keep the lights on.  He wanted to be resentful towards them all, judge them for living so happily, but that wasn't Louis.  And he wasn't one for complaining about it.

"You alright, mate?"

Louis looked up, smiling warmly at Liam as he sat down beside him.  Shrugging, he replied, "I guess, I mean... I've been doin' this for a while.  I can handle it."

Liam smiled softly at him, pushing his hands into his pullover's pockets.  "I meant about the Harry thing."

Louis froze for a moment before taking a long drag of his cigarette and looking down at the pavement.  He didn't respond.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything," Liam said, sighing beside him, "But I see you two.  You're like magnets, and everyone feels it.  Even Zayn.  S'why he's such a bell end around you."

Louis shook his head, flicking the butt of his fag off into the distance.  "You're wrong though," he said, finally looking up at him, "Harry and me?  We're nothing.  We had a laugh, s'all."

He quickly rose to his feet, reaching out to pull the entrance door open.

"Be careful, Louis," Liam called behind him, "Zayn's not one to share."

 

 

"Hey Danny, Michelle," Louis exclaimed as he slid over the counter, grabbing for his apron.  His co-workers greeted him curtly as he punched his employee ID into the computer, heading for the back.  Tonight he was on cake duty.  Which was definitely not his favorite, as the cakes were some of the hardest things to make in the shop.

"Oi, Danny!  Whose idea was it to put me on cakes?  I'm shit at cakes!" he shouted from the back, pulling out the ingredients with a frown.

Danny appeared in the back then, his dark hair falling out of his hat.  He smiled at Louis, crossing his arms, "Think it was my Dad.  I can try telling him again that you hate it, but we're short staff or something, and he knows you need the work."  Danny paused this, his smile faltering, "Oh shit, sorry.  I just meant that... y'know... you like to--"

"Danny, don't have an aneurysm.  It's fine.  I need the money, doesn't bother me to say it out loud," he exclaimed, smiling warmly at the boy.  He could swear that he blushed in return.

"Right, well um... I'll leave you to it," he mumbled, backing out hastily.  His back hit a shelf, knocking over all the bakery's mixing bowls.  Louis let out a loud laugh, shaking his head.

"You wanna watch where you're goin', mate?  I've got to clean those," he teased.

Danny stammered, "Oh, shit um.  Fucking bollocks, sorry.  I'll just... I'll pick these up and yeah, safe.  Cheers, Louis."

Louis shook his head, turning back to the batter.  There was something weird about that kid.

 

 

When Louis finally turned his the key in the door to his house, it was nearly midnight.  He sighed as he walked past the sitting table and into the kitchen.  There wasn't much room in the tiny home they lived in, the washing machine and dryer sitting beside the kitchen doorway.

Pulling the clothes out from the dryer, Louis moved the next load in and piled the darks into the washing machine as well.  He pulled off his jumper and trousers, throwing them in as it began to spin and bubble from the soap.  Louis definitely needed to get some folding out of the way if he planned on doing anything remotely entertaining the coming weekend.

He turned on the teakettle, setting a chamomile tea bag in his favorite mug before trotting into the living room.  Louis stepped on a raggedy old Barbie doll and cursed loudly, grabbing at his foot.  It was mostly likely the property of one of the twins, and there were fucking toys _everywhere_.  He almost called out for his sisters in anger, but refrained when he remembered the time.  

"Great," Louis mumbled, just another thing to do before the night was done.  He frowned, hastily picking up as much as he could before piling it all into the toy bin hidden underneath the staircase.  The sound of the kettle whistling pulled him out of his cleaning, and Louis eagerly made his way to the stove before flicking the off switch, pouring the water steadily over the tea bag.

"Louis? Is that you?" a soft voice asked.  He looked around the corner to see Fizzy at the foot of the stairs, rubbing her eye with one hand, a cricket bat in the other.  She was in her bright pink onesie.

Louis smiled softly at her, moving into the light so she could see his face.  "Spot on, sweetie.  No need to get swingy, eh?  Just go back to bed.  I've got fresh bread from the bakery for breakfast tomorrow, ‘kay babe?"

Fizz nodded in response, hanging the bat on a nail before trudging sluggishly up the stairs.  "Love you, Lou," she mumbled, flicking the lights off.

Louis stared after her for a while, smiling softly to himself.  Shaking his head, he made his way back to the kitchen and prepared his cup of tea.  As he sat down on the couch, he took a large gulp and prepared himself for a long night.

 

 

Louis awoke the next morning to the sound of his home already buzzing around him.

"Fizzy, don't forget to comb their hair!"

He wiped his mouth, cracking his neck as he yawned, the smell of herbal tea drifting into the living room.  Dumbfounded, he padded into the kitchen, surprised to see Lottie at the stove frying bacon.

"Lots, what'ya doin'?  What's the time?" he asked incredulously, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"Half past, love.  Made you a cuppa, three sugars," she replied, cracking two eggs over the bacon strips.

He nodded, reaching out for his tea, leaning against the side of the counter.  He sighed into his mug, frowning slightly.

"You should've woke me," he admonished.

Lottie turned to look at him for a moment, face cross.  "You're not the only one who can do stuff.  We can, too, Fizz and me."

He made a face, shaking his head, "I don't want you doing anything."

"Well you were tired, and we can take care of ourselves," she concluded, turning back to the stove.  The toaster popped in the corner, and he watched as Lottie plopped a bacon fried egg between the two toasted bread slices, handing it to him.

He gave her a stern eye, but took the plate anyways, sighing.

"You're not alone, Louis," she remarked.

Louis bit into his toast and left it alone.

 

 

"Louis!  Wait up!" Niall called out, Cher not far behind him.  "We're plannin' your relief fund strategy, mate!"

He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief, "You guys weren't serious."

He ducked away from Cher's swatting hand, and she punched his shoulder in retaliation.  "Don't be a fuckin' prick.  I've made sure we've got top grade shit, so how 'bout a fuckin' "Cheers, Cher" and a pint?"

"Oi!  You kiss your bloke with that mouth?" he teased, nodding towards Niall.

She laughed, "Only on his knob."

"Cher!"

Louis let out a loud guffaw, throwing an arm over her shoulder as Niall babbled beside her, embarrassed.

 

 

Professor Ginnich started off chemistry by announcing that they'd be burning magnesium.

"I heard last time he did, the fire alarms went off," Harry grumbled as he slid into his seat beside him.  Louis looked up at him with wide eyes, mouth open to reply but a complete lack of words coming to mind.  He hadn't spoken directly to Harry since that night at the rave, and there was still a shit ton needed to be discussed.

For instance, the whole snogging in the washroom.

Harry, to his credit, seemed unfazed by Louis’s temporary lack of motor skills.  He smiled at him coolly, leaning back in his chair.  "Tomlinson…  You alright, mate?"

Louis cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head.  "Yeah, I'm fine just..." he trailed off, gazing at him.  There was something that changed in Harry's expression then, like the flick of a switch.  Like maybe he felt it too, whatever was going on between them.  They could shut it off like a faucet, but sometimes it slipped through the cracks like rain water, slowly dripping into the places it didn't belong.

Now wasn't the time or place for that.

"Goggles on!" Professor Ginnich bellowed.  Louis slid on his own with a resigned expression on his face, carefully looking away from Harry.  "Now magnesium is an extremely flammable, brightly burning metal.  It's so bright, in fact, that it's created in the heart of supernovas.  It's also water soluble, making magnesium fires very difficult to put out.  Please turn on your Bunsen burners."

Louis sighed, flicking on the switch.  Beside him he heard the sound of the match being lit, followed closely by the small blue flame.

"Now then.  I'm going to turn off the lights, and we're all going to experience the wonders of magnesium.  Remember not to look straight at it!"

Louis watched at the flame in front of him, tuning out Professor Ginnich as Harry shifted closer in order to watch the light at a safe distance.  It was like magic; one moment there was just a flame, and the next, a light brighter than anything Louis had ever seen before.

"See?" Ginnich said with a pleased laughed.  "Magnesium!  Chemistry at its best!  Incredible.  No different than the chemistry between humans.  Now take your water bottles and spray your strip in short intervals."

"S'amazing," Harry mumbled beside him.  Louis peaked a glance at him for a moment, drinking in the way the light shadowed his distinct features.  His green eyes were nearly sparkling.  Louis himself hardly noticed how much brighter the light in front of him had become because he'd been so focused on Harry.

"Water and magnesium.  Doesn't put out the fire, just makes it burn brighter.  Like... people.  People burn brighter together."

Looking over at Harry, Louis couldn't help but think that maybe Ginnich was right.  He must've been staring at him for too long because suddenly, Harry was looking back at him.  

"What?" he whispered, curiosity in his glance.  

Louis shook his head.  "Nothing, just..."

He trailed off, his eyes flickering to Harry's lips and the shadow cast on them from the magnesium's light.  When had he started leaning into him?

"Lou?" Harry exclaimed.  He could feel his breath on his skin, and if he just leaned forward just a little bit more...

The fire alarm rang out into the room, making Louis jump in his seat.

"Oh, bollocking wanker, not again!" Ginnich exclaimed, clearly exasperated.  "Alright, off you pop.  Follow the safety signs in the hallways, and don't run off please."

Harry pulled back, looking at his lips one last time before laughing and shaking his head.  "Seriously, he needs to pull it together," he joked, grabbing Louis by the arm.  Crowding into the hallway, Louis' heart fluttered as his fingers brushed between him and Harry, smiling to himself.  When he looked over at Harry, he was grinning.

 

 

Louis had been chatting with Cher at his locker when he was unexpectedly pushed from behind, slamming into the open door.

"What the fuck, Malik?!" Cher shouted.

"None of your fucking business, Cher," he snapped, turning to Louis, " _You_!"

Louis looked back and Zayn with wide eyes, unsure of just what he would do.

"Stay the _fuck_ away from my boyfriend, you wanker!" he warned, pushing him back against the lockers once again.

Louis put his arm up defensively, shaking his head.  "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Chemistry with Ginnich?  What, d'you think I wouldn't find out about it?  This is _Webberley_ , tosser, no one here can shut the fuck up.  So back the _fuck_ off, or I swear to god, I don't give a _shit_ if everyone thinks your cool," he seethed, pressing his arm up against Louis’ throat.  He paused then, whispering into his ear.  "And for the record, you might want to ask Harry about the others.  You can't honestly think you're the first."

Zayn stepped away then, adjusting his jacket before smiling at Louis and Cher.  "Right.  Good chat then.  Laters."

Louis watched Zayn strut confidently down the hallway, the rest of the students moving out of his way in fear of being next on his shit list.  Rubbing his throat, Louis looked back at Cher warily.  She had a hand on her hip and a stern look on her face.  Shaking her head, she slammed her locker door shut.

"You _fucking_ wanker."

 

 

Louis' wasn't in the best mood when he walked into the bakery that afternoon, the day's rain having dampened not only his sandy brown hair, but also his clothes.  Still, he couldn't help but smile when he saw Danny relaxing behind the counter.  He returned the gesture, as always, and even extended his kindness to small talk.

"Rough day?" he asked.  He had a look on his face like he knew what the answer was, but was still hoping for good news.

Louis sighed, "Yeah... just stupid stuff at school."

Danny nodded and moved out the way so that Louis could slide over the counter, following him into the back.  "I remember college.  S'a shit stain if you ask me."

He smiled at that, tying his apron behind his back.

"Well since we're a bit slow, you can give me a hand.  Pass me the eggs, yeah?"  Louis pulled out a large mixing bowl, along with flour and other various ingredients.

And that was how he spent the next five hours; Danny would help him make the cakes on order and when the stray customer strolled in, take care of the front.  For once Louis didn't mind being on cake duty.  It took his mind off others things, like the fact that Harry hadn't directly talked to him about what had happened and somehow news of them holding hands had come back to his boyfriend.

But he wasn't thinking about it.

It was quarter till midnight when he'd almost finished cleaning up his space in the back and was hit unexpectedly with a hose.  Louis looked up in surprise, turning to point at Danny.

"Oi!" he exclaimed.

"Oh mate, I'm so sorry.  It was an accident, I swear," Danny replied.  Still, he was laughing so hard that Louis knew he wasn't all that sorry.

Thinking on his toes, Louis grabbed the sponge off the counter, throwing it and hitting Danny square in the face.

"Oi!  I was hosing down the floor!" he yelled.

Louis leaned forward with a hand on his hip, " _Oi_!  I was disinfecting your gob!"

Danny raised the hose once again, and Louis immediately put his hands up defensively, getting a splash of water right in his chest.   He grabbed the hose from his own sink, aiming for Danny, only for him to move out of the in the nick of time.  In a matter of moments Louis found himself soaked to the core, Danny edging up on him.

"Surrender!" he shouted, spraying him in the face.

"You fucker!" Louis exclaimed, charging forward.

Danny wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling Louis in close before pressing the nozzle against his temple.

"Kill shot?" he teased, smirking down at him.  For the first time, Louis noticed how pretty his eyes were.  A nice, even deep blue.  There was water caught on his eyelashes, dripping down now and then, and, wow, how long had he been staring at Danny's eyes to notice that happening?

The next thing he felt was Danny's lips on his own.

It was a soft kiss, slow and unsure.  Louis had been so surprised that his eyes stayed open.  But then they fluttered closed, and he pressed back into Danny’s soft lips, humming in his throat.  When Danny finally pulled back, their foreheads touching, Louis could barely breathe.

"Wow," Danny mumbled, pecking him once again.

"I... yeah," he responded, unsure of how he felt.  He didn't really... like Danny like that.  But he was so sweet to him, and undoubtedly attractive, and definitely _available_ , unlike a certain curly haired boy on his mind.  Danny was good, wholesome, and simple.  Simple was good, wasn't it?

Danny stepped back, looking down at the floor.  "I um... I shouldn't have done that.  I didn't even know what to... I just... I've been working with you for months now and I just think you're so amazing and so fit and just... if you give me the chance I think we could have something."

Louis looked back at him with surprise.  That was... wow, just a lot.  He knew that he should do the right thing, tell Danny the truth.  He should've told him that he wasn't interested, that he was head over heels for someone else, and that he could never feel as much for him as he did for Harry.  But he was so honest and sincere and he could be something good if Harry wasn't ever going to leave Zayn.

He shook his head, pushing his hair back with a shaky hand.  "Look um... I don't know… I don't think that I feel that strongly for you, but um...  There's this party this weekend, it's a college party and my friends are all selling spliff to help me with cash -- their idea, not mine, I so don't endorse that but --" Louis took a shaky breath, looking back up at Danny, "But I'd really... love it if you went with me.  As my date."

Danny smiled, nodding enthusiastically, "Yeah, safe!  Wow, um... that went better than I thought it would."

Louis laughed uneasily, letting Danny kiss him once again.

"Look, you can get outta here. I'll deal with this mess," Danny said, stepping back.

Louis smiled curtly, grabbing his backpack before jumping over the counter.

"I'll see you Friday!" he called back, pushing through the door.

As he walked out into the cold night, he couldn't help but feel like he'd done something wrong.

 

 

When he walked into the house Friday night, the first thing Louis noticed about the party was that it looked like a fucking rave.  There were lights flashing everywhere and a fog machine going.  He was pretty sure some kid from maths was controlling the music in the living room.

"Wow... so this is what parties are like now?" Danny yelled, leaning in close.

Louis shook his head, "Only the really good ones."

Danny laughed, kissing him on the cheek.  Louis tried to hide his surprise, allowing him to slide their hands together as he made his way towards where Niall said the rest of the gang was hanging out.

Sure enough, everyone was gathered round the island in the kitchen taking shots and smoking.

"Tommo, you cunt!" Cher shouted, wrapping an arm around his neck.  Louis laughed before his best friend surprised him with a sloppy kiss on the lips.

Danielle sighed, "Cher, babe, Niall's over here."

"Oh!  Shit, soz babe," she apologized with a giggle.  She swiftly fell into her boyfriend’s arms and began snogging him profusely.

"Who's your friend?" Zayn piped up, clearly happy to see him with anyone but his own boyfriend.

Danny outstretched his hand.  "Name's Danny."  

"Never heard of you," Harry said coolly, taking a swig of beer.  He looked at Louis with an unreadable expression, and Louis quickly looked away and up at Danny, smiling at him before kissing him once more.

"Right.  Can we get on with the illegal drug dealing?  I want to be a criminal for as little time as possible," Liam said uncomfortably.

"Aw babe," Danielle cooed, fingers wrapping around his chin, "I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Everyone groaned.

"Oh, dear god.  Kay, simple enough.  Everyone gets five bags.  Sell them all or get the fuck out, 'right?  Now shots!" Cher exclaimed, raising her cup in a toast.  Everyone followed suit.

Party time.

 

 

Some two hours later Louis had: a) lost his date, and b) taken some of his own product.  With the other four bags sold, he'd spent the last half hour dancing alone and giggling at nothing.

"May I have this dance?" he heard in his ear.  Louis turned around, a smile spreading on his face when he saw Harry in front of him.

Bowing dramatically, he replied, "Why of course my good sir!"

Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist.  Louis returned the gesture, throwing his arms around Harry’s neck as they began to grind, the bass pumping through the floor.  Louis smiled up at Harry, pushing his curls out of his eyes as their foreheads pressed together.  His breath caught as their eyes locked, a shiver running down his spine as Harry's hand moved up his back.

"I have a terrible idea," Harry whispered against his ear, fingers slipping underneath the edge of Louis' jeans.

Louis smiled, biting on Harry's earlobe.  "All your ideas are terrible."

He doesn't even think about Danny as they head up the stairs.

 

 

Louis couldn't help but giggle when his back slammed the bedroom door shut, Harry's lips on his own, shushing him.  

"Hush, you," Harry chided flippantly, lingering over his lips.  Louis laughed again before humming softly, eyelashes fluttering as he looked tentatively up at Harry.  

"Wow," he said quietly.  Louis furrowed his eyebrows, about to ask what he was talking about, when Harry’s hand cupped his chin delicately, tilting his head just so, as their lips slid together a second time.  He relaxed against the door, his arms falling to his side as he pushed up on his tiptoes.  Harry's hands slipped underneath Louis’ shirt, the pads of his fingers tracing lines up his stomach before pushing the fabric up and over, throwing it off into the distance.  Slowly, Harry walked them backwards towards the bed, swiveling around so that Louis would fall backwards.

Louis looked up at him cautiously, a light shade of pink flushing his cheeks as he watched him remove his shirt.  Harry stared back at him, a small smirk edging on his lips.  He undid the button of Louis' jeans, pulling them down slowly and deliberately. Louis watched with labored breath, lifting his hips off the bed in order to help remove his trousers.

Harry's hands spread his legs further apart, sliding all the way up to his thighs deftly.  He gazed in awe as he kneeled, his hand softly beginning to work up and down his cock.  Louis gasped, his breathing picking up as he propped himself up on his elbows.  He cocked his head to the side, smiling at Harry.  His head rolled back as his lips wrapped around him.  Louis moaned quietly, dropping onto his back before arching off the bed.

"Harry," he whined, tangling his fingers in his curls.  Harry pulled off with a pop, smirking up at him mischievously.  "Mhmm?"

Louis giggled.  "Shuddup," he said, yanking him upwards.  He leaned up to kiss him, sliding his tongue between his pliant lips, hands roaming.  Harry rested back on his calves, unzipping his trousers before hastily pulling them off along with his pants.  Louis moved back on the bed, placing his head on the pillows.  He had a small moment to himself as Harry fished through his jeans, thinking about what he was about to do.  There were so many things wrong with the situation, things he knew he'd regret in the morning.  But then Harry turned back around and smiled at him, and he forgot whatever those reasons were.

Louis played the observer as Harry leaned forward, squirting some lotion from the side-table onto his hand.  Soon Harry's fingers were breeching him, the chill sending a small shiver through his body.

Harry was gentle at first, easing Louis into the feeling.  He gasped with each twist of his fingers, hips twitching against him.  Louis felt so open and exposed, and feared that Harry would see the naivety on his face.  But if he knew that Louis hadn't done this before, he didn't say anything.

Instead he began to move with fingers with purpose, adding a third.  Louis panted, hands tangling in the sheets as he bowed his back.  A quick peak downwards revealed Harry's smirking face as he curled his fingers, sending a jolt of surprise up his spine.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, quickly covering his mouth in embarrassment.

Harry chuckled, sliding back up his body before sucking on his neck.  "You're adorable," he mumbled, licking his collarbone.

"I most certainly am not," he huffed, bracing his hands on his shoulder blades.

He smiled in response, slicking his hand once more with lotion before reaching between them.  Louis let out a shuttering breath, lightheaded as Harry bent his leg back, his knee nearly touching the bed.

"Ready?" he whispered.  Harry didn't wait for an answer before guiding himself in.

Louis whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.  It _hurt_.  Why had no one told him that it hurt like this?  He made an ugly sound, pushing at Harry's shoulders as he wiggled underneath him.  "You have to stay still, babe," he mumbled, petting his hair softly.

He shook his head no, looking up at Harry with tearful blue eyes.  Harry smiled then, nodding his head yes.  "Louis, just trust me."

He didn't exactly believe that Harry could make it any better, but he figured moving around less would stop it from hurting so badly.  Slowly, Harry began a pace, increasing his speed gradually.  The pain began edging into pleasure, Louis moaning softly into the crook of Harry's neck.

Louis couldn't explain how he felt looking up at Harry, watching the way his lips parted and his dark hair fell into his eyes.  His thrusts became deeper and firmer, coaxing small little sounds out of him that made the blood rush to his cheeks in embarrassment.  Every now and then Harry would give him a little smirk, the one he always had on his face, and Louis would reach out and trace it with his fingertips.

He wanted the moment to last forever, to remain in Harry's arms until the end of time.  Instead he found himself holding on until the very last moment, his toes curling and legs shaking as he tumbled over the edge.

Now Harry lay beside him, their hands tangled together and bodies intertwined.  Somewhere downstairs the party was still raging on, the music a dull thud in the room.  

Louis placed his head on Harry's chest and closed his eyes.

 

 

When Louis opened his eyes the next morning, he was calm for about two seconds before sitting up with his eyes wide open.  The memories of last night came flooding back to him in a rush.  Beside him, Harry hadn't stirred from his sleep, smacking his lips together slightly before turning over in bed.

Afraid of having to face the problem he'd just presented himself with head on, Louis quickly began getting dressed, trying to wrap his head around what had happened.  He was pretty sure he hadn't come to the party like night with the intention of losing his virginity to someone who already had a boyfriend.  In fact, he'd brought another date.  One that he'd definitely left high and dry. _Fuck_.

Louis checked his phone, frowning at the array of text alerts on his screen.

**Cher**  
 _mate, where the fuck are ya?  300 quid when i find ya! :) xx_

**Danny**  
 _where are you?_

**Danny**  
 _are you and harry having fun up there?  have a great fucking night._

Louis swallowed thickly, looking back over at Harry.  If Danny had seen them go upstairs… there was no telling who else had.  Deciding the best solution was to get the hell out of there before anyone else saw, he left the room, adjusting his clothes and hair as he rushed down the stairs.

He lit a fag as he exited the house, the cool morning air smelling of fresh rain.  Unsurprisingly, his phone rang almost the instant he rounded the corner of the block.

"Cher, why are you even up right now?" he asked in amusement, cutting through a small park.

Cher laughed.  "Mate, you won't believe what happened last night."

As his best friend began her ridiculous tale, he couldn't help but think to himself _oh, you have no idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a month! I've had terrible writer's block and insecuries about this episode, but it's finally complete and ready for you all to read! Major thanks to Ash and Caroline, for helping me make big decisions as well as beta'ing the chapter. Enjoy! <3 Also you can find the soundtrack to the episode on my tumblr :)


	4. Zayn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn can tell he's losing Harry to something (or rather, someone). After spending a romantic weekend together, he discovers text messages between Harry and a number not saved in his contacts. After bickering at a party that weekend, he comes to school Monday ready to confront Harry, only to discover on his own just who's number it is. In wake of the break up, he loses his identity in the one thing he knows he's good at: sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. It's been awhile. Like.. almost exactly two months. But as you can see, this is the longest chapter thus far. I really have so many people to thank, honestly. Thanks to Shyla ([litttledreams](litttledreams.livejournal.com)) for helping make some big decisions, Cat ([mmalfoys](mmalfoys.livejournal.com)) for being my biggest cheerleader, and Sarah ([ruby_crowned](ruby-crowned.livejournal.com)) for beta'ing and reading and then re-reading again. Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET CATHERINE, SHE TURNS 19 TODAY. Obvs, this is my present.

Zayn woke up splayed out on top of his boyfriend, the sun peaking through his window.  A quick glance at his side table told him that it was seven am.  Quite early, considering that it was the week of half term holiday.  His mum had taken the girls to go visit his father in Bradford for the week, so he had the house to himself.  Which basically meant that he and Harry had been fucking anywhere and everywhere.  He had only expected to get Harry alone for two, maybe three days, but they'd been locked up in his small family home for a full five days now.  
  
Yawning, he laid his head back down on Harry's chest, closing his eyes and hoping for sleep to find him.  The buzz of Harry's phone beside his alarm clock made him open them again, eyes rolling up to peer at him through his lashes.  Figuring it was Liam commanding they leave their cocoon, he reached out for the phone, furrowing his eyebrows at the screen.  The text had come from a number not saved in Harry's phone.  
  
Typing in the four digit code, Zayn made his way into his messages, surprised to find pages of texts.  
  
 **+44(0114) 925 7715**  
 _i don't think i should be talking to you :/_  
  
 _why? cause of zayn?  i can handle him._  
  
Zayn stared at the texts for a long moment, going against his better judgement and scrolling to the top of the screen.  
  
 _why'd you leave the other night?_  
  
 **+44(0114) 925 7715**  
 _can we not do this right now?  not while you're there with him. :|_  
  
Zayn threw the phone across the bed as if the metal burned his fingers, sitting in stunned silence.  Harry was texting someone else?  Harry didn't even like texting Liam or Niall, his _best mates_.  He hardly even used his phone unless it was completely necessary.  And he certainly didn't reach out to people first.  
  
Feeling more and more unsure of himself, Zayn looked down at his sleeping boyfriend.  He slipped out of bed, making his way to the bathroom before staring in the mirror.  What was wrong with him?  He had a nice jawline, a somewhat toned stomach, really clear skin.  Wasn't that good enough?  Zayn ran a hand down his own arm self-consciously, looking into his own amber eyes.  What did someone else have that he didn't?  
  
Zayn turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it, stepping in with a clouded mind.  He knew about Harry's "extracurriculars".  Hell, he'd probably fucked up more than half of them.  But there was something off about this one, and he knew it.  There were too many abnormalities popping up in their relationship; they weren't fighting, and Harry had stayed with him the whole week.  All over some mysterious stranger with an unsaved number?  There was only one reason Harry wouldn't put the number under a name.  
  
He didn't want Zayn finding out who it was.  
  
Letting the water pelt down over his face, Zayn rubbed his eyes tiredly, pushing his fingers through his thick raven-colored hair.  He lost track of time and stood under the stream without really washing, letting the hot liquid cleanse his thoughts.  
  
Jolting in surprise, he turned around when he felt an arm slither around his middle, giving Harry a look.  
  
"You scared the shit outta me," he scolded, frowning deeply.  
  
Harry laughed, giving him his trademark smirk.  "Sorry, love."  
  
Zayn turned back around after that, lathering up his skin.  He could feel Harry's presence behind him, but he'd since stepped back, letting Zayn handle his business.  He sighed as he rinsed his skin.  Space was the last thing his confidence needed right now.  But Harry had always been good at sniffing out his moods, and this time had been no different.  
  
"Hey," he murmured against his skin, kissing his shoulder.  "None of that."  
  
Zayn fought his grin for all of ten seconds before giving in and smiling like a smitten school girl as Harry pulled his body close and playfully bit his neck.  
  
He shut off the water, stepping out of the bath with Harry not far behind.  Zayn smiled softly at him, reaching up to dry his curls with his towel.   He chuckled as Harry shook them out, rolling his eyes as his boyfriend grinned up at him mischievously through his messy mop.  
  
"I'm hungry," Harry said conversationally, pulling Zayn into him.  Grabbing at his ass, he added, "And horny."  
  
Zayn rolled his eyes, "Which first then, Tarzan."  
  
He let out a startled yelp as Harry lifted him off his feet before wrapping his legs around his waist.  
  
"Me sex Jane now," Harry grunted, walking them back towards the bed.  
  
"Never call me Jane again," Zayn retorted with a huff.  
  
He almost forgot about the mystery number.  Almost, until he heard the dull buzz of a phone as Harry thrusted into him.  
  
  
  
Zayn lit his cigarette with one hand, watching the sky as he exhaled.  The kitchen window was open, the sound of sizzling bacon floating through to the back of the house.  He had stepped out for a smoke while Harry made them breakfast, overly conscious of the fact that Harry's phone had suddenly been switched from vibrate to silent.  
  
He didn't want to be concerned.  After all, he had been Harry's boyfriend for over a year.  If he had any intention of leaving him for someone else, he would've done so by now, right?  Whoever it was was just another conquest.  A nothing.  One week from now Harry wouldn't even have the messages saved in his phone, and Zayn'd be feeling dumb for ever thinking he had something to worry about.    
  
But what if Harry had changed?  
  
Zayn squashed the butt of his cigarette against the concrete of his back stoop, quickly lighting a second fag as the screen door swung open and shut behind him.  
  
"Wanna slow down there, babe?  I don't think I could actually get myself to make out with a stoma," Harry teased, plopping down beside him.  He handed Zayn his plate: buttermilk scones with gravy, eggs, and bacon.  Zayn smiled up at Harry as he was handed a hot cup of tea.  
  
He shrugged in response, "Eh.. I'll take my chances."  
  
Harry snorted, taking a large bite off his fork.  They chatted amicably for a while, eating breakfast and watching the sky slowly become lighter and lighter.  As Zayn looked over at his boyfriend he couldn't help but conclude that he was worried about nothing; Harry wasn't leaving him anytime soon.  All those other people had nothing on him.  He may not have been Harry's one and only, but he was _his_ , and that counted for something.  
  
"Harold," he said, swallowing a forkful of eggs, "We're good, right?  You and me, we're... we're solid?"  
  
Harry smiled that stupid little smile that made him melt like butter, scrapping the last bits of food on his plane onto his fork.  "As a rock, babes."  
  
Zayn smiled as he chewed, pushing Harry off playfully as he pulled him in for a kiss on the cheek.  "Ge'roff," he grumbled, batting at his boyfriend.  Harry laughed as he stood up, heading back into the house.  
  
Turning to look back at him, Zayn exclaimed, "Hey babe?"  
  
Harry paused, tossing a glance over his shoulder.  Zayn stared at him for a moment, sighing.  "I love you."  
  
Harry smiled brightly, shaking his head, "You too, babes."  
  
Zayn turned back around, sipping his cup of tea with a goofy grin.  
  
Yeah, everything was fine.  
  
  
  
  
Zayn looked up at Harry with stars in his eyes as they waltzed through the front door, bass shaking the walls of the house.  He could feel all eyes on them, looking back at the crowd with a smirk on his lips.  He grabbed Harry's hand from where it dangled over his shoulder, letting him lead them to where the gang were sitting.  
  
"Pretty bitch!" Danielle shouted, throwing her arms in the air.  
  
Zayn laughed, rolling his eyes, "Stupid bitch!"  
  
"Oi!" she said with a faux frown, "I'm black bitch."  
  
Zayn snorted, "My bad.  Too many bitches in this shit."  
  
"What bitch am I?" Niall piped up, nudging Cher off his neck.  With the amount of love bites he was sporting he was beginning to look like a leper.  
  
Harry made a dramatic 'hmm' sound, rubbing his fingers against his chin.  "I'd definitely say virgin bitch."  
  
The couch erupted with laughter as Niall scowled. "Oi, I'm not even a virgin anymore!"  
  
"Damn right, you aren't," Cher retorted, running her fingers through his hair.  "Eats muff like a champ."  
  
"Jealous over here," Danielle responded.  
  
Liam frowned, "Oi!"  
  
"Oh I'm only joking, love," she said, kissing him on the lips.  She turned away from him, shaking her head no and everyone stifled their giggles.  
  
"Right," Zayn said, sifting through his pockets, "Well the music's loud, but this party’s a bit shit.  Who's rollin’?"  
  
"Oi, Malik, you can't pack for shit.  Tos'it over," Cher chimed, motioning for him to pass the skins.  
  
He let out an indignant huff, temper easing as Harry kissed the top of his head.  "You know it's true babes.  'Sides, Cher was born to smoke or summat."  
  
"S'true," Danielle added, "Year nine I watched her hit a massive bong and out-smoke every boy at the party."  
  
"Right, fuckers.  'Nough about how awesome I am.  Puff, puff, pass," Cher said, lighting the spliff between her lips.  After taking a long hit of her own, she handed it off to Zayn.  
  
He closed his eyes, inhaling the smoke deeply before slowly exhaling.  
  
  
  
Zayn liked to dance like no one was watching.  Whenever they were at parties, Harry always let Zayn be the star of the show and kept a loose arm around him as he swayed to the music, his own arms over his head.  
  
"Babe, m'fuckin' thirsty," Harry whispered into his ear.  Zayn nodded, leaning lazily on Harry as they stumbled towards the kitchen.  On top of the counter was a large array of liquor.  Zayn could see Cher and Niall mixing a drink sure to knock someone out, giggling and being handsy.  He couldn't help but think how nice it would be to be like that; he'd tried getting Harry to be cute in public before, but it only succeeded in annoying him.  
  
"Drinks!" Zayn shouted at his friends, stealing the cup they'd been mixing.  He giggled before he downed the whole cup, burping unsophisticatedly as he slammed the red cup on the countertop.  "Tastes like candy."  
  
Niall guffawed, his hand squeezing Cher's exposed hipbone.  "Oi, mate.  You could ask first."  
  
Zayn shrugged, "I could, but then I'd have no booze!"  
  
Cher rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Niall completely.  Zayn watched longingly as the two of them whispered to each other, smiling and giggling like they had secrets they weren't sharing.  Why couldn't he have that with Harry?  
  
"Babe look, I'm gonna go make the rounds," Harry said against his ear.  Zayn frowned, watching him pick up a beer.  
  
"No, c'mon we're having fun.  Don't leave me here," he pleaded, pouting up at him.    
  
Harry rolled his eyes, shoving him aside.  "Don't be daft, Zayn.  I spent the whole week with you.  You're being really fuckin' clingy."  
  
Zayn pressed his lips together in a thin line, feeling something hot behind his eyes he refused to call tears.  He was too fucking sober for this.  Turning around hastily, he grabbed the first two bottles in sight and poured them into his cup.  
  
"Whoa, mate.  You wanna slow down?" Niall asked, eyes wide as Zayn kicked back half his cup.  
  
Zayn scowled, adding another liquid to the mix.  "Fuck you!"  
  
He poured just about everything he could into his cup, walking into the crowded living room with it filled to the brim.  
  
  
  
"Move!" Zayn shouted, pushing his way through the large mass of bodies between him and the bathroom.  He shoved his way through the door, startling a couple going at it on the sink.  
  
"I said get the fuck out!" he seethed, rushing to the toilet.  The door wasn't even closed before his puke was hitting the inside of the bowl, his body shaking violently with each heaving breath.  Zayn wasn't quite sure how drunk he was, but somewhere between puking a second time and singing Taylor Swift to himself with his cheek on the seat Niall and Cher had shown up.  
  
"You okay, lad?" Niall asked tentatively, kneeling beside him.  
  
Zayn snorted, "I'm a fuckin' dandelion of joy."  
  
"Oh dear," Cher mumbled, standing guard at the door.  
  
"Hey, fuck you!" Zayn shouted, lifting his head to point at her.  "I'm a cuckold!  I've been cuckolded!"  
  
Cher crossed her arms and gave him a cross look, "You're not actually married."  
  
"You're not actually smart," Zayn retorted, following up with a dry heave.  
  
"Right," Cher started with a growl, "Niall you better shut him the fuck up, or I swear to god I'll twist his dick sideways."  
  
"I got him, just go get Li and Danny, yeah?  Think it's time to go home," he replied, pushing Zayn's hair out his face.  
  
Zayn smiled to himself because _Niall_.  Sweet, kind-hearted, virgin Niall.  "Sweet, virgin Niall," he babbled, reaching out with a flimsy hand to pet his face.  "You know, sweet-virgin-Niall, my boyfriend is a cheating whore."  
  
Zayn could hear the sigh, the sound that he had grown so used to.  It was the _poor little thing_ sigh.    
  
Your boyfriend cheats on you?   _Oh, you poor little thing._  Your boyfriend gave you the clap?   _Oh, you poor little thing._  Your boyfriend doesn't really love you?   _Oh, you poor little thing._  
  
Zayn couldn't help himself; Harry was word vomit.  "Nine two five, seven seven one five!" he shouted angrily, punching the seat.  "Nine two five... seven seven... one.. five."  
  
"C'mon, mate, we should get you home," Niall coaxed, rubbing his back.  
  
"I love him, he should love me back.  Why doesn't he love me back?  I do everything he asks me to," Zayn whimpered, sniffling.  
  
"I dunno, mate.  I really don't," Niall replied, lifting him up.  
  
Zayn let himself be carried, babbling seven little numbers over and over.   _Nine two five, seven seven one five..._  
  
  
  
Zayn hadn't seen Harry since the party.  After he'd been dropped off at home, he spent the better part of Saturday nursing a killer hangover and all of Sunday playing sad music too loudly until his mum and sisters got home.  
  
"Oi, Zaynie.  What'ya drowning your sorrows for?" his older sister, Doniya, asked as she barged into his room without knocking.  
  
Zayn threw a pillow at her.  "Oi, c'mon Doniya!  What if I had been havin' a wank?"  
  
"I would've had a right laugh, cause then you'd truly be a sad, dozy fucker," she snorted, dodging another pillow.  Zayn just frowned in response, turning over to face the wall.  
  
"Just go away, Doni!  I don't want to talk to anyone," he whined, crossing his arms.  He could hear her sigh behind him, and balled up his fists.   _If one more person made that sound._  
  
"Is this about that boy that you sneak out the house in the mornings?" she asked, sitting beside him on the bed.  
  
Zayn sat up, looking at his sister in surprise.  She laughed, "Oh don't look so shocked! You couldn't honestly think no one had noticed."  
  
He sighed, running a hand through his messy dark tresses.  As far as he knew, his family had no idea that he'd been dating Harry.  They didn't exactly talk much anymore.  Zayn couldn't recall a time he'd sat and had a proper conversation with anyone in his family.  
  
"Does Mum know?" he asked cautiously, face worried.  He knew that his mother was deeply religious, everyone but him still attending church every Sunday.  It was one of the main reasons he refused to tell her.  
  
Doniya sighed, "I don't think she's really focused on that right now.  She just misses you, Zaynie.  We all do."  
  
He sighed, looking down at his lap.  After a few moments of silence and twiddling his thumbs, he spoke up.  "S'name's Harry," he started, frowning at his hands.  "But he's um.. I think he's cheating on me.  Like, really cheating.  Not like... not like before..."  
  
"Cheating is cheating, babe.  There's no in-between," Doniya chided.  
  
Zayn nodded, closing his eyes, "Yeah, no.  It's just um... not with us.  We're... we're in love, but sometimes.. sometimes we venture out, y'know?"  
  
"The both of you?" Doniya asked, voice skeptical.  Zayn hated that somehow she already knew the answer.  
  
He stared down hard at his lap, eyebrows furrowed.  His words had sounded much better in his head.  He sighed as his sister rubbed a hand over his shoulder blade.  
  
"Maybe it's time to move on, babe," Doniya mumbled, squeezing his shoulder.  
  
Zayn's face twisted, torn between upset and defeated.  Move on to what?  There was no one else.  Harry was his one and only.  Always had been.  Ever since the day he'd asked his Mum to give Zayn a ride home because it'd been pouring out.  He wasn't like the rest; Harry didn't do nice things for them.  He didn't court them like right out of a movie and ask them to be his boyfriend.  He didn't introduce them to his friends, or bring them into his gang.  They were nothing; Zayn was everything.  That couldn't be fizzling out, not after all this time.  Sure they fought passionately, but they fucked just as hard.  Harry had never seemed _unhappy._  
  
He shook his head, looking up at his sister with a forced smile.  "D'ya know what?  I think it's just a phase.  Harry goes through these phases."  
  
Doniya looked at him for a long time before pulling him in for a hug, kissing him on the cheek.  "Okay, babe.  Okay."  
  
  
  
Zayn called Harry for the fourth time that morning, finishing his fag while his leg shook nervously.  His boyfriend hadn't even tried to contact him since Friday night.  In the whole year they'd been dating, Harry had _always_ called him back.  Maybe not right away, but he'd never just _ignored_ him before.  Fed up with waiting, he pulled himself together, head held up high.  Zayn walked through the doors of Webberley with all eyes on him, smirking as the hall parted.  There were definitely perks to being the most feared boy in school.  
  
As he rounded the corner, Zayn stopped in his tracks.  There was Harry.  He looked... fine.  Seriously?  He'd ignored him for three days and he didn't even have the decency to look disheveled or upset about something?  Not only did that mean that there was no reason for Harry to ignore him, it meant he'd _purposefully_ done so.  
  
Still, Zayn wasn't about to let everyone else know that something was wrong.  Putting on a lazy grin, he made his way towards Harry with a strut, wrapping an arm around his middle before laying a big kiss on him.  
  
"Zayn," Harry said.  He almost sounded... surprised.  
  
"Hey babes," he replied coolly, looking up at him with a cheeky grin.  "Where were you this weekend?"  
  
Harry shrugged, looking over Zayn's shoulder, "Oh, y'know.  Hospital.  Making odd food.  Mum's got right weird cravings."  
  
Oh.  Just his mum.  Zayn breathed an internal sigh of relief.  "Right well, you wanna sneak away later?  I'm dying for some tlc," he teased, nibbling on Harry's lip.  
  
Harry shrugged.  "Can't really miss any more classes, babe.  Have to keep my grades up."  
  
Zayn laughed, shaking his head.  "Harold, term only just started today."  
  
"Stop calling me Harold, you know I fucking hate it," Harry replied, shrugging away from him.  Zayn frowned.  He'd been calling Harry by his full name for ages, why the fuck did it matter now?  
  
"Well you don't fuckin' like Haz, so what the fuck else am I supposed to call you?!" he whisper-yelled, straightening out Harry's coat with a smile.  Harry rolled his eyes, batting away his hands.  
  
"Just _Harry_ ," he said in annoyance, tossing his hair with his hands.  
  
Zayn frowned, " _Everyone_ calls you Harry."  
  
"Well, then I guess you'll just have to share it with everyone, won't you?" he retorted, pushing his fringe up out of his eye.  
  
"What th'fuck's wrong with you lately?" Zayn finally accused, crossing his arms.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, "Nothing.  Stop acting like a girl."  
  
"Oi, fuck you!" Zayn shouted, stepping around Harry.  He found himself being pulled back by Harry's hand.  
  
"Don't.  Zayn, c'mon.  Don't leave mad at me, you know it's not good for your education," Harry goaded.  
  
Zayn rolled his eyes, pushing against his chest, "Don't take the piss outta me."  
  
"Right, I'm sorry.  I'll make it up to you at lunch, alright?" Harry replied, kissing him on the lips.  Zayn sighed, stuffing his hands into Harry's pockets before rolling his eyes with a smile.  
  
"Yeah, whatever," he conceded.  Zayn stood up on his tip-toes and pecked Harry on the lips.  "I'll see you after third."  
  
Harry nodded, "Safe."  
  
Zayn watched him walk away, waving cutely, before turning to look down at his hands.  
  
He had Harry's cell phone.  
  
  
  
 **+44(0114) 925 7715**  
 _thank for watching the girls.  i really needed the hours at the bakery._  
  
 _no problem.  they're sweet.  and i got free biscuits. :)_  
  
"What'ya lookin' at?" Cher asked nosily, peering over his shoulder.  The class instructor -- Zayn could never remember her name because he was almost never there -- was busy trying to get the class to pay attention to her.  Honestly though, who gave a fuck about home economics?  
  
"Your mom's work schedule," Zayn retorted, giving a fake smile, "Y'see, I've got a cousin who's having a wedding soon, and they need a stripper for the bachelor party."  
  
"Oi, you're pushin' it, Malik," Cher warned, face going red with anger.  Niall pulled her into his lap, kissing her shoulder soothingly.  
  
"Calm down babes.  You know he just likes to wind you up," he cooed.  He nodded his head towards Zayn.  "Seriously though, mate.  Who's phone is that?  You don't even have an iPhone."  
  
"S'Harry's," Zayn said distractedly, scrolling through the conversation.  
  
 _these biscuits are fucking crack.  are you feeding me crack?_  
  
 **+44(0114) 925 7715**  
 _yes, we like to serve all our customers with a smile and a healthy dose of crack._  
  
 _how about a kiss while you're at it? ;) xx_  
  
"Bastard," Zayn grumbled angrily, looking back up at Cher and Niall.  "925-7715, either of you know that number?"  
  
Cher seized up in Niall's lap, face going carefully blank.  "Nah, mate."  
  
Zayn glared at her.  "You're lying.  Who's number it is, Lloyd?"  
  
"I dunno!" she shouted, throwing his hands up defensively.  Zayn gave her a stern look, eyeing the desk.  Her phone was out.  
  
Quickly, before she could figure out what he was thinking, Zayn grabbed her mobile, dashing out of the room as the bell rang.  
  
"Malik, you cock sucking bullocking horse fucker!  I'll shove your dick up your arsehole with a fucking power tool you--"  
  
Well aware that Cher was not far behind him, Zayn hurried through the hall, failing three times at guessing her password.  Finally, he typed in 'niall', rolling his eyes.  Seriously? Quickly heading to the address book, he started typing in the phone number, stopping in his tracks when the blue highlight flashed over the name.  
  
 _Tommo._  
  
"Oh shit."  Cher's voice came up from behind him, Niall not far behind her.  
  
"Zayn, mate, look," Niall started, trying to catch his breath.  
  
Zayn could see both their mouths moving, but it was like someone had turned the sound off. _Louis fucking Tomlinson_?  Louis, who almost never could come out and party with them?  He could count on one hand how many times he'd been to a party the same time as him and Harry; the last time was Reneé Richards' party...   _when no one could find them._  
  
"Reneé's," he mumbled, "Reneé Richards party, when they both disappeared..."  
  
He watched as Cher eyes widen, Niall's expression getting nervous beside her.    
  
That _fucking_ prick.  
  
"Zayn, listen to me--" Cher tried.    
  
Zayn shoved her phone into her hands.   "I know you're going to anyways, but you might want to go get Liam and Danny," he said with a stiff smile, turning to walk away.  
  
"Why's that?" Niall shouted from behind him.  
  
"Cause I'm about to _fuck_ Harry up!"  
  
  
  
Zayn wasn’t expecting anything less from Harry, but walking into the student lounge to see him chatting with Louis at the billiards tables only succeeded in pissing him off even more.  He paused at the door, face going hard at the sight of them before he made a beeline for his boyfriend.  
  
"What's wrong, babe?" Harry asked coolly, moving in for a kiss.  Zayn immediately took the opportunity to knee him in the balls, followed by a punch to the stomach.  
  
"You _fucking_ arsehole!" he shouted down at him, balling his fists at his sides, "Did you think I wouldn't find out?!  Do you think I'm fucking _stupid_?!"  
  
Harry looked up at him with watery eyes, shaking his head, "What the fuck are you on about?!"  
  
"Reneé's party?  Did you think I wouldn't find out?  Did you think I wouldn't _notice_?  You did, didn't you?  ’Cause you think I'm stupid!" he shouted, voice slowly starting to quiver.  "Well I'm not stupid, Harry, I'm actually really _fucking_ smart.  I'm fucking smart, okay?  So don't feed me any more bullshit and _tell me the truth_!"  
  
Zayn could see Louis in the corner of his eye, shocked and standing carefully still.  He took a step back to allow Harry room to stand, trying to hold himself together long enough to get what he wanted.  Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "Did you sleep with him?"  
  
Harry didn't say anything, pressing his lips together.  By now a crowd had gathered around them, and he could see Harry's eyes as they searched around the room for someone (Liam) to come and save the day.  Zayn let out an angry sound, slapping him across the face.  "Answer me!" he screamed, starting to breathe heavily.  
  
"...it was once," Louis said quietly.  Zayn turned his attention to him, swallowing thickly.  "It was just that once at the party, but I felt like shit about it so I started avoiding him, but then I needed someone to watch my sisters and Cher was visiting her Dad, so I couldn’t call her and then I just--"  
  
A loud blunt noise resonated through the room, following by a series of gasps as Zayn landed a fist across Louis cheek.  Growling, he launched himself at Louis, pushing him back against the pool table.  He'd only managed to get in one more good punch before someone grabbed his arms from behind.  
  
"Get the fuck off me!" he screamed, kicking on his legs.    
  
"I'm sorry," Louis cried, wiping blood from his face.  Zayn lurched forward, trying to hit him a third time.  "Fuck you!" he replied, spitting at him.  
  
"Zayn, c'mon," Liam said in his ear.  
  
"You might want to get your cock checked out, Louis!  Harry's got a killer case of gono!  Ain't that right Harry?" he shouted.  "In fact, all you sluts and benders better get your shit checked, cause he's a fucking walking std!"  
  
Liam finally pulled him into the hallway, Danny and Niall tumbling out the room as well.  
  
"Get off me!" he repeated, shrugging away from him.  He pointed a finger at the three of them, shaking his head.  "You knew.  You all knew he was sleeping with Louis, didn't you?"  
  
"Zayn, c'mon, we're you're mates," Danny pleaded as he shrugged Liam off a second time.  
  
"No, ‘cause if you were my mates, you would've fucking told me!" he exclaimed, voice cracking.  
  
"But you already knew!  You knew Harry was sleeping with other people," Niall replied, shaking his head.  
  
"He was different and you _know_ it!" Zayn cried, pushing past them.  
  
"Mr. Malik!" someone shouted behind him, more than likely the teacher who had finally arrived to remedy the situation.  Zayn ran down the halls without any clue where he was going.  
  
Hastily, Zayn threw himself into a room where the blinds were drawn, quickly closing the door.  He rested his head against it, banging against the wood softly as he finally allowed himself to cry.  
  
" _Fuck, fuck, fuck_!" he shouted, slamming the door open and shut with each curse.  
  
"Zayn?" a familiar voice asked.  Zayn wiped his nose quickly, spinning around to face Aodhan, his favorite teacher.  "Oh, Mr. Ballard.  Sorry I didn't... I didn't see you."  
  
"Fuckin' hate that, you know to call me Aodhan," he replied, leaning back on his desk with his arms crossed. He looked genuinely concerned at the state of him.  "You alright, lad?"  
  
Zayn closed his eyes, shaking his head as his face contorted in an attempt to force back a sob.  "No, I just... Harry's cheated on me.  Like, really cheated and I... oh god.  Am I not good enough?"  
  
Aodhan shifted against his desk, clearly uncomfortable.  "I don't think I'm the right person to be asking."  
  
"But you are, aren't you?" he replied, sniffling, "You fancy me."  He'd seen the way his teacher looked at him sometimes.  After a year of being nothing but arm candy, it was hard not to decipher the longing looks thrown his way.  He'd even played up on it, making inappropriate comments during class and taking the time to flirt with him.  
  
Aodhan cleared his throat, taking time to clean the lenses of his glasses.  "I uh... I'm sorry, I don't think that question's appropriate."  
  
Zayn whimpered, closing his eyes to fight back another wave of tears.  What was so fucking terrible about him that someone couldn't even admit they were attracted to him?  Had it all been in his head?  Maybe he really wasn't anything without Harry by his side, just like he'd convinced himself all this time.    
  
Who was he before Harry came along?  Just a dorky loser with too-big glasses and his drawing pad sitting in the library at lunch.  Now he wore the best clothes and had the best hair and forced his mum to pay for contacts they couldn't really afford, and he was _fit_.  Why couldn't anyone else see that?  
  
"Zayn..." Aodhan mumbled.  Zayn let out a sob, wiping his face with the back of his hand.  
  
"Am I ugly?  Is there something wrong with me?  No one wants me, I don't get it I just.. I try so hard, I did everything right, why doesn't anyone want me?" he babbled.  
  
"Don't talk about yourself like that," Aodhan reprimanded.  Pressing his fingers against Zayn's chin, he tilted his head until they were face to face, looking down at him softly.  "I promise you, there's not a thing about you that isn't beautiful."  
  
Zayn sniffled and looked up and him, trying and failing to force a smile.  Aodhan returned the gesture with a warm expression, cupping his face as he wiped his tears away with his thumbs.  
  
"That's a good lad," he crooned, smiling fondly.    
  
Zayn slowly calmed down, silently gazing back at Aodhan.  He could feel the air in the room change, see the look in Aodhan's eyes like he wanted to do something he wasn't supposed to.  Tenderly, Aodhan brushed the pad of his thumb against Zayn's lip, pressing down on the soft skin.  Zayn parted his lips slightly, tongue darting out to brush against the salty skin before wrapping his lips around the tip, sucking softly.  
  
"Zayn," Aodhan repeated lowly.  Zayn grazed his thumb with his teeth in response, shifting to tilted his hips forwards off the door.  There was a long, quiet moment where Aodhan reached around him and something went click, and then...  
  
Zayn let his eyes slip shut as Aodhan crashed their lips together, moaning under the assault.  He was much taller than him; even on his tip-toes he was straining a bit to reach him at full height.  He wrapped an arm around his neck, parting his lips as his tongue slipped inside, licking the roof of his mouth.  He could feel large, rough hands wandering along his body, cupping his ass, pulling him even closer.  He pulled back long enough to shrug off his jacket, letting it fall to the tiled floor in a heap as Aodhan dragged him back towards is desk.  
  
"So fuckin' gorgeous," Aodhan husked, lifting him onto the wood.  Zayn couldn't help but flush slightly, watching in awe as his teacher pulled away his jumper, tossing it onto one of the nearby tables.  He mimicked the movement, wide eyed.  Was this really happening?  
  
Allowing himself to be pushed back against the desk, he looked up at the ceiling, panting as heavy hands undid the button of his jeans.  He let out a soft mewl as Aodhan fingers brushed against his growing hard-on, hips twitching at the contact.  
  
Aodhan leaned down, wet breath ghosting against the skin of his lower abdomen.  "So beautiful," he whispered, trailing kisses down to the waistband of his jeans.  Zayn whimpered, tangling his fingers in Aodhan's dark brown locks, stomach quivering under the attention.  He lifted his hips, allowing his trousers and pants to be pulled away in one swift motion.    
  
Zayn closed his eyes, desperately trying to clear his head.  This was a bad idea, something that was sure to be a mistake, but he couldn't make himself care.  Aodhan was nice, and honest, and he thought that Zayn was _beautiful_.  No one ever said he was beautiful.  He's pulled from his thoughts as Aodhan leaned over him, reaching out for the lotion that sat on his desk.  
  
"You okay?" Aodhan whispered, lips grazing his own.  Zayn nodded hastily, letting out a shuttering breath as his fingers slipped inside him.  At least now, with something to distract his mind, he could pretend like he didn't feel unhinged.  Instead he moaned into Aodhan's mouth, licking in filthily.  He rocked his hips down on his fingers, gasping as he brushed against his prostate.  
  
"Now, fuck me now," he mumbled, back going taunt.  
  
Aodhan stood up straight, hastily pushing his pants down to his thighs.  Zayn could see him coating his dick with lotion, a condom nowhere in sight.  There was a moment when the thought about stopping right there, finally stopping acting like a child, desperate for approval.  But then he thought of _Harry_ and then Louis, and he raised his legs, grunting as Aodhan pulled them apart and then slid him down the desk until his hips were hanging off the edge.  
  
He couldn't stop himself from staring into Aodhan's eyes as he guided himself in.  He let out a breathy moan, squeezing his eyes shut as a hand slammed down against the desk.  Aodhan was _big_.  Bigger than Harry, who was his only reference.  ( _That was another thing Harry had taken from him_ , he thought.)  But he kept at a slow pace, drawing his hips back gently before inching his way back.  The slow drag went from comforting to torturous quickly, and he wiggled his hips, looking up at Aodhan.  
  
"Harder," he muttered, biting on his bottom lip.  A sharp moan left his lips, the raw feeling of being fucked making something churn in his stomach.  He grit his teeth, scratching his blunt nails down Aodhan's chest.  " _Harder_."  
  
He repeated it like a mantra, until he could barely catch his breath between thrusts and Aodhan's hand was burning a mark into the skin of his stomach where it held him down.  It was quick, dirty, and rough.  Zayn tipped his head back, gasping with a smile on his face and tears falling from the corner of his eyes.    
  
Harry had cheated on him.  He'd punched the new kid in the face.  He had no real friends.  He was fucking his psych teacher.    
  
Everything was fucking peachy.

  
  
  
Zayn refused to sit around like a brokenhearted teenage girl over the loss of Harry.  Instead he went to the mall and refilled his whole closet, dumping his old clothes.  He got a new haircut and stopped gelling it back, letting it fall naturally over his forehead.  He set every picture and every gift that Harry had ever given him on fire in his backyard, and drank too much vodka.  He stopped wearing his contacts in favor of bulky hipster glasses.  
  
And then there was the whole sneaking around to have sex with his teacher.  
  
He'd been suspended from Webberley for starting the fight with Louis.  Nine whole days to reinvent himself, go to parties alone, and get shitfaced.  Sometimes he'd see the gang, all of them sitting in a corner having a laugh.  Once in a while one of them would catch his eye.  Liam would always look at him guiltily.  Danny always looked nervous.  Cher glared.  Harry quickly turned away.  
  
Niall was the only one who ever bothered to smile.  
  
But Zayn didn't care.  He just moved from body to body in the crowd dancing with anyone who'd wrap their arms around him.  Someone would press a pill against his lips and he would take it.  Fridays bled into Saturdays and Sundays.  Nine days turned into three weeks.  The next sobering event to bring him down to reality was a big red F on his psychology test.  
  
"Mr. Malik, please see me at the end of class," Aodhan said sternly.  Zayn shot him a questioning glance, annoyed when he only turned around to hand out more tests.  This was fucking _bullshit_.  Banging the teacher should've come with some perks, one of which being that he didn't get failing grades.  
  
Staying back after the bell rang, Zayn closed and locked the door, drawing the blinds so that they had their privacy.  He crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"What th'fuck, Aodhan!" he exclaimed, face tight.  Zayn had this uncanny gift to yell at someone and still maintain a controlled expression.  
  
Aodhan sighed, tossing a stack of papers on his desk.  "You're work's slipping Zayn.  I'm worried about you."  
  
Zayn rolled his eyes, taking a step forward, though Aodhan was still far away at his desk.  "Why?  Cause you've been shoving your cock up my ass?  I don't need your pity," he huffed.  After a moment he added, "And I've been doing just fine."  
  
"No," Aodhan said, "I've been curving your grades.  I'm not going to do it any longer."  
  
Zayn's demeanor changed then, his face softening in fear.  "How much curving?"  
  
"You've been failing my class for the past two weeks," he amended.  
  
Zayn opened and closed his mouth multiple times, trying to find the words to say.  "Well," he stuttered, "It's your fault.  Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Aodhan shrugged, leaning back against the whiteboard.  "For the exact reason you didn't expect to see an F at the top of your paper."  
  
Zayn felt an overwhelming loss of control, pressing his lips together tightly.  "Well what's changed now?"  
  
Aodhan scoffed, shaking his head.  "You know.. teachers hear things.  All the rumors you hear?  We hear the same ones.  And I've been hearing quite a few on you."  
  
Zayn rolled his eyes, turning around open the door.  "Right well, I'm sure we can discuss them another time when I'm not late for class."  
  
"Have you been.. sleeping with other people?" he asked thinly, voice carefully even.  
  
Zayn paused, turning around to face him.  "No," he sighed in annoyance, "Not that it's any of your business."  
  
Aodhan laughed then, long and loud.  Zayn could feel the goosebumps rising on his skin.  "See, that's where you're wrong, because you _are_ my business," he chuckled, slowly making his way towards Zayn, "I'm risking my job for you. The least you could do is respect me enough not to get on your knees for _anyone with a pulse_!"  
  
Zayn jumped as Aodhan raised his voice, back hitting the door with a flat thud.  "How’d you find out about that?" he whispered, eyes gone wide.  
  
"Magic mouth they're calling you," he continues, ignoring him, "Get boys off in five minutes flat."  
  
Zayn swallowed thickly as Aodhan's hand rested against the door, barring him in a small bubble.  "Why don't we test that theory, hmm?" he said lowly.  
  
"What?" he replied.  His question was soon answered, a heavy hand pushing him down to his knees.  "Aodhan," Zayn began, watching as he undid his belt.  
  
"So disrespectful, you know, runnin' around on me.  I'm not that little prick of a boyfriend you used to have," he babbled, pulling his dick out of his pants.  Zayn looked up at him, frightened.  He opened his mouth to say something, only to startle when Aodhan pushed his way into his mouth.  Zayn choked and pushed away from him, pressing his hands against his legs.  
  
"I'm being nice Zayn, the least you could do is return the favor," he reasoned calmly, shaking his head, "Or I could just do the right thing and call your Mum, tell her all about your grades.  And all the rumors I've been hearing..."  
  
Zayn worried his lip, looking down at the floor for a moment.  Slowly, he dropped his hands to his sides.  He didn't fight Aodhan when he grabbed him by the hair, tilting his head upwards.  
  
"Open," he commanded, dick rubbing against his spit slick lips.  Zayn closed his eyes and did as he was told, bobbing his head lazily.  Twice, he gagged on his cock, finally pulling back as he began to cough.  
  
"It's been more than five minutes," Aodhan huffs.  
  
"I'm trying!" he whimpered.  Zayn hated that he could hear the whine in his own voice.  
  
Aodhan shoved in deep.  "Well try harder."  
  
Zayn tried not to choke on his own spit, unable to catch whatever rhythm Aodhan had set.  His eyes burned, his throat felt raw, his jaw aching something fierce.  Everyone once in a while he'd look up at Aodhan, catching the way his neck muscles tensed as he held back moans.  Absently, he wondered how he had managed to get himself into this position.  He found himself wishing he'd never confronted Harry, let things go on in blissful unawareness.  Maybe he'd still be happy.  
  
There's a suddenly rush of hot liquid in his mouth, and Zayn tries desperately to push back enough so that it doesn't hit the back of his throat so suddenly.  Instead he was gagging and making a mess, the too-wet blowjob adding unpleasant amounts of liquid into the mix.  
  
"Swallow," he demanded, holding Zayn in place.  It took him a good couple tries to get all of it down.  
  
Finally, he released Zayn and let him cough and wipe at his mouth.  He tried to catch his breathe, throat burning with each inhale.  
  
Putting himself back in his trousers, Aodhan sighed.  "See now that wasn't so bad," he cooed, crouching down so that they were eye level.  Petting Zayn's cheek, he added, "I'm sorry I was so rough, but you understand right?  I don't want to share you with anyone else.  You're mine, alright?"  
  
Zayn nodded.  It wasn't like he had much of a choice.  
  
  
  
Zayn threw himself into the music.  He was high on something with a smiley face on it and drinking what he had appropriately named 'clusterfuck' -- a mix of everything on the counter with a dash of Sprite.  He had the distinct feeling that tonight would end negatively.  He'd been warding off any and all advances in favor of the memory still fresh in his mind of his teacher (lover?  fuck buddy?  newly found enemy?) blackmailing him into some fucked up monogamous relationship.  
  
Things had been tense between the two of them since 'the incident'.  More often than not Zayn showing up after school ended in him locking the door, shoving his pants down hastily and allowing to Aodhan shove him up against whatever surface he felt like fucking on that day.  There were no more rumors, but each meeting there was something knew.  ' _So and so was looking at you.  I saw you smile at such and such._ '  It was too much to keep up with, and his energy was failing him.  
  
Laughing, Zayn fell down a wall.  There were people passing him and bodies moving on the dance floor.  The rave was too dark for him to make out any faces.  He was undeniably and completely alone.    
  
He began to sob, unable to stop the wave of tears coming from his eyes.  Zayn sat alone on the floor, passed by unnoticed until a blurry figure appeared.  
  
"Zayn?" the figure said, squatting down front of him.  
  
Zayn hiccuped, squinting.  "Niall?"  
  
The figure nodded, and Zayn started to open his mouth to talk but could only cry out, reaching out for his friend like a lost child.  
  
"Oh, Zayn," he eased, wrapping an arm around him.  
  
Zayn leaned against Niall, burrowing his face into his neck.  "Please take me away," he whimpered, sniffling.  
  
"Okay," he exclaimed softly, "Okay."  
  
The world suddenly got brighter, the smell of fresh air and green grass hitting him like a slap in the face.  It was sobering.  But it also made him feel the nausea he'd been fighting.  
  
"I'm gonna puke," he declared, placing a hand protectively over his stomach.  The world began to spin, faster and faster, until he was leaning over a bridge, puking out into the water.  He cried some more, whimpering weakly as Niall rubbed a soothing hand against his back.  
  
"Why are you even helping me?  You're supposed to hate me," he weeped, dry heaving a moment later.  
  
"I never hated you.  I told you, we're mates," Niall replied, pushing his hair off his forehead.  
  
Zayn shook his head.  "We were never really mates.  You all just put up with me because of Harry.  I know what you think of me."  
  
Niall snorted, helping him stand against the railing.  "That you're a good guy in a shit relationship?"  
  
"That I'm a doormat and a cunt," he responded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
Niall pursed his lips.  "You're not a cunt, Zayn."  
  
"Yes I am.  I don't know why.  I just-- I had to be," he sighed, looking down at the ground.  
  
There was a long silence between them.  Zayn honestly wondered if Niall would go back to the rave and leave him there on the bridge.  
  
Instead Niall asked, "You wanna get some chips?"  
  
Zayn perked his head, raising an eyebrow at him.  
  
"What?  I'm starvin'," Niall shrugged, blushing slightly.  
  
Zayn allowed himself a laugh, shaking his head.  "Sure, why not."  
  
  
  
"These are the greasiest chips I've ever eaten," Zayn said, half disgusted.  It didn't seem to bother Niall, who was plowing through his like someone suffering from malnutrition.  
  
Niall rolled his eyes, "They're _supposed_ to be greasy, Malik.  That's why they're called chips."  
  
"No, they're called chips because they're chipped potatoes," he retorted, looking at Niall indignantly.  
  
He laughed, taking a long sip of his Coke.  "Mate, you're wound so tight, you're gonna break in half one day."  
  
"Shut your gob, Horan," he barked, though there was a smile on his face.  Niall only let out his typical loud guffaw of a laugh, mouth full of food.  There was a dollop of ketchup on the side of his cheek.  
  
Zayn snorted, "C'mere, you doss."  
  
Reaching out, he swiped his thumb across Niall's cheek.  Pulling back, he licked the tip of his finger.  
  
"Bit too sweet for me," he mumbled, smirking softly.  Niall looked back at him, smiling slightly before he looked down at his chips, the window blowing through his blond locks.  Zayn noticed then how much different Niall looked.  A little less pudgy, and a bit taller.  
  
"You cut your hair," he thought out loud, eyes flicker towards Niall's pink cheeks.  
  
"Oh, yeah," he babbled, looking up for a moment as he tossed a chip in his mouth, "Cher did it."  
  
Zayn snorted, smirking slightly, "Charvy bint."  
  
"Oi!  She's nice enough," he replied, though his tone implied he knew Zayn was only joking.  
  
Zayn laughed softly, looking out at the rising sun.  Sheffield had only been his home for five years, but it still felt like where he belonged.  He sighed then, balling up his newspaper wrappings.  
  
"Niall?" he quipped, clamming up when Niall hummed in response.  "I um.. How do you.. You know, when everything’s all fucked up..  What do you.. what do you do then?"  
  
Nialled paused, finishing his Coke.  After a moment he swallowed his last bit of chips and replied, "I dunno.  I guess... I guess I just get right to the source of the problem, sort it, and then move on with a grin.  Cause I mean, there's not much else you can do, right?  World keeps turnin'."  
  
Zayn nodded, biting down hard on his bottom lip.  "Yeah... I guess so."  
  
He could feel Niall's eyes on him, trying hard to keep his own eyes on the sun.  "Zayn, is everything all right with you, mate?  I mean like... you're not in trouble, are you?  You'd tell me if you were.  In trouble."  
  
Zayn looked at Niall, contemplating.  He could tell him everything.  About the random hook-ups.  About being pissed off his face every day of the week.  About fucking his teacher and then somehow being blackmailed into fucking his way to straight-As.  Niall looked so hopeful, like all he wanted was for Zayn to open up to him.  
  
Instead, he cracked a grin, shaking his head.  "Nah, mate.  Everything's cool."  
  
Niall sighed, frowning slightly before he stood and dusted off his trousers.  
  
"Right, well.  I better get home," he replied, smiling at him.  "I'll see you around, Zayner."  
  
Zayn smiled back, giving a slight wave.  "See you, Nialler."  
  
As he watched him walk away he couldn't help but hope that he was right, and everything would sort itself out.  
  
  
  
Monday started out quiet for Zayn.  It was a lazy day; he felt too drained to put much effort into doing himself up.  He could see that everyone around him was shocked by his appearance: plain white tee, dark blue sweatpants, and Adidas slip-ons.  His hair was the epitome of bed-head, and his glasses hung haphazardly on the edge of his nose.  
  
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Zayn unlocked his phone to check his messages.  
  
 **Nialler**  
 _where you at?  i need fags ):_  
  
 _i have to stop at aodhan's real quick to sort something out.  meet me there?_  
  
Zayn shut his phone before knocking on the open door, swallowing thickly as Aodhan looked up at him.  
  
"Zayn," he exclaimed, voice carefully even.  There was a look on his face like he wasn't happy.  "Close the door behind you."  
  
Zayn shook his head, "No.  This'll be quick; I'm done with this, with you-- all of it.  Fail me if you want but I'm not fucking people just to keep them happy anymore."  
  
Aodhan stared at him for a long moment before letting out a loud laugh, shaking his head.  "Oh, kid.  You honestly think I buy that bullshit?"  
  
Furrowing his eyebrows, Zayn's face contorted in confusion, "I don't--"  
  
"You're a pretty thing, Zayn," Aodhan began, standing up.  Slowly, he walked towards him.  "Pretty, but... forgettable.  S'why you're constantly trying to please everyone."    
  
Pressing his lips together tightly, Zayn looked up at Aodhan with water in his eyes, allowing him to cup his face in his hands.  
  
"You don't really want to leave me," Aodhan cooed, voice going soft.  "You just want the approval I haven't been giving."    
  
Zayn felt like he was falling off an edge, plummeting to the inevitable death he'd been trying to avoid for the past month.  Aodhan wasn't any different than Harry; if anything, he was worse than him.  And once again Zayn found himself unable to leave.  
  
"You're such a good lad," Aodhan whispered against his lips, walking them back towards his desk.  "Do everything you're told.  Why are you trying to mess it all up?  Why don't you just stick to what you're good at?"  
  
Zayn had the distinct feeling he that he was drowning, his lungs desperate for a breath of fresh air.  The room suddenly felt like an endless ocean of pain and turmoil, his life some cruel joke.  Aodhan pushed him down to his knees underneath his desk and he didn't even think to say no again.  It was almost comical how quickly he pulled Aodhan out his pants, watching his own hand move up and down his dick.  
  
"Aodhan?"  
  
Niall's voice boomed through the door as the door swung open, starting Zayn backwards under the wooden desk.  There was no way Niall could see him, but it didn't stop his heart from pounding against his chest or his tears from spilling over.  He covered his mouth with a shaky hand to stop himself from making a sound.  
  
"My door was closed, Mr. Horan.  I except you understand the concept of knocking?" Aodhan replied gruffly.  Zayn could see that he still had a hand massaging himself, making it perfectly clear that he expected Zayn to finish what he started.  
  
Zayn could feel himself shaking now, almost to the point of panic.  He desperately wanted out, someone to stop him from going completely under.  He could hear Aodhan and Niall talking, but it blurred together.  He needed an out, a way to escape that he couldn't provide himself.  He knew then that he had to let Niall know he was there.  
  
Taking off his glasses, he folded them up before sliding them under the crack of the desk, letting them out into the open.  
  
  
  
  
Zayn didn't actually see Niall until the end of the day when he was walking down the school steps.  Suddenly, he was just standing right in front of him, face uncharacteristically solemn.    
  
"How long?" he said.  Niall didn't elaborate, but there really was no need to.  
  
Zayn's face fell into an even frown, maneuvering around Niall.  "About a month now," he replied, pulling a Malboro Red from his near-empty carton.  He began to walk by the far wall of the school that was always secluded at this time.  
  
"Well are you gonna stop any time soon?" he asked.  Zayn's had his back turned towards Niall, but he was almost certain he could hear the concern in his voice.  
  
Snorting, Zayn shook his head before turning to face him.  "What do you think I was trying to do?"  
  
"I thought were sucking his dick," Niall snapped.  It's uncharacteristically cross of him, enough so that Zayn startled at his tone of voice.  He could feel the heat spreading over his cheeks in embarrassment, like he'd been caught making an ass of himself.  
  
He turned around to face Niall, his cigarette dangling from his lips as he let out a breath of smoke around it.  The was something in Niall’s face that said there was more to it than he was letting on.  
  
Slowly, a smile spread across Zayn’s face.  "You jealous?" he teased, propping a hand on his hip.  
  
Niall reddened before stuttering out a scoff, shaking his head.  "Zayn, not everyone wants to fuck you."  
  
"Yes they do," he laughed, looking at Niall incredulously.  Zayn braced an arm against the wall, barring him in before smirking around his fag.  He wrapped his fingers around the stick, dropping his hand to the side before blowing the smoke up into the air.  Leaning in close, he let his lips ghost over Niall's ear and whispered, "Do you want to fuck me, Niall?"  
  
"Don't be stupid," Niall huffed.  But Zayn could see the way his shoulders tensed and how the flush in his cheeks wasn't just from embarrassment.  
  
He smiled.  "I could show you."  
  
Niall dared to look up at him for a moment, their eye connecting silently.  Then he shoved Zayn away, shaking his head at him.  
  
"I'm with Cher.  I _want_ to be with Cher.  Not everyone's Harry, Zayn," he said, shaking his head, "And you shouldn't let everyone you sleep with treat you like him, either."  
  
"Fuck off, maybe I want to sleep with Aodhan," he snapped, flicking his fag off into the distance.  
  
Niall snorted.  "Then why'd you show me your glasses?"  
  
Zayn stared back at him for a long moment before turning on his heels, suddenly in a rush to get home.  
  
"Tell someone, Zayn, or I will," he warned.  Zayn didn't dare to look back at him.  
  
"I'm not jokin'!"  
  
  
  
When Zayn finally slammed the door to his bedroom that evening, he felt panic beginning to set in.  What had he done?  Telling someone had been the absolute worst fucking idea.  And with the way he'd treated Niall after he was only trying to help, he doubted that he even had that friendship anymore.  
  
He let out a sound he was unfamiliar with, quickly clasping his hand over his lips to silence himself.  The air from his nose was hitting his skin, the sound audible and fuck, he couldn't _breathe_.  He paced around his room running his hands over his face and forehead, feeling the shakes of his own body taking over.  
  
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he shouted, whimpering as tears began to flow down his face.  
  
It's only then that he noticed his easel standing upright in the corner with a brand new canvas.  He walked over tentatively, lifting the yellow sticky note on the blank board.  
  
 _PAINT_  
  
Zayn snorted, shaking his head as he sniffled.  It was Doniya's handwriting.  
  
Despite the encouragement, he hadn't painted in over a year.  He doubted that he even had the skill anymore.  But he had always used to paint whenever he felt like shit in the old days.  Whenever his parents would fight or he had a bad day at his old school.  Painting was his escape.  
  
Tentatively, he picked up his palette, squirting an array of color onto the clean slate.  Pressing play on his iHome, he began to glide his brush across the white with a slight smirk on his face.  One color turned into six, turned into ten, turned into a full board of color without any real direction.  Objectively, it was a piece of shit.  But Zayn felt like it was the best thing he'd ever painted.  
  
Setting it aside to dry, Zayn dug through his closet for another canvas.  
  
He wasn't sure how long he stood around in his room, painting alone, but when he heard a knock at the door it was suddenly dark outside and his eyes were drooping.  
  
"C'min," he grumbled, giving one final flick of his brush.  
  
"You're painting," his mum exclaimed, surprise in his voice.  Zayn quickly spun around and looked at his mother, eyes wide.  It'd been a long time since they'd spoken like this, quietly, in the confines of his room.  
  
Shrugging it off, he nodded, "Yeah um... Doniya said I should start up so... y'know."  
  
His mum smiled, sitting down softly on the edge of his bed.  Chewing on his lower lip, Zayn put his palette down on the floor, tentatively walking towards her.  
  
"Is there something you wanted?" he asked cautiously, fiddling with his shirt.  There was a blotch of blue on the bottom left of it, and he picked at the dried paint with his fingernail.  
  
She shrugged, patting the bed. "Come sit."  
  
Sighing, Zayn did as he was told, sitting beside his mother.  She smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.  "How are you, baby?"  
  
Zayn snorted.  He even contemplated telling the whole truth.  Instead, he replied, "A bit shit.  Harry cheated on me, my mates abandoned me.  I fucked up the one friendship that I had left.  I'm making a _really_ stupid decision almost every day, and I have no idea how to fix any of it."  
  
His mum sighed, shaking her head.  "You were always been so dramatic," she said fondly.  Looking back at him, she added, "Somethings are worth fighting for, and some are not.  Harry?  Probably not.  But your friends?  You fight for them.  And whatever dumb decisions your making... that's what I'm here for.  I'm meant to be cleaning up your really bad messes."  
  
Zayn felt a warm tear slide down his cheek as he looked back at his mom, shaking his head.  "No Mum, I mean I'm _really_ in trouble."  
  
His mum pulled back, looking at him seriously.  "Zayn, you're scaring me.  What's going on?"  
  
He bit down hard on his lip, shaking his head.  He couldn't-- he couldn't tell his mum.  She'd never look at him the same again.  
  
"Zayn Javaad, you tell me what's going on _right now_ ," he replied sternly.  
  
He can feel himself start to shake.  Sniffling, he breathed, "Just please don't yell, okay?"  
  
His mum nodded, and Zayn started at the beginning.  
  
  
  
  
Zayn sat outside the dean's office for a long time listening to his mother scream at McCafferty.  He wasn't sure how long he sat there before he saw Aodhan step out looking red in the face and angry.  Their eyes met for a moment before Zayn looked away, and his mother followed suit.  
  
"He's outta here, babe, you'll never see him again," she told him, running a hand over his hair.  Zayn didn't really know what to say.  She's been begging him since he told her to press charges, but he just wanted to be done with it.  
  
It appeared that Aodhan would get a slap on the wrist compliments of his kindness, being quietly let go.  It didn't really matter; everyone already seemed to assume that he had been sleeping with a student.  It wouldn't take long for people to conclude that it was him.  
  
"I wanna go to Dad's for a week," Zayn replied weakly, feeling lightheaded.  His mum nodded and kissed him on the top of the head.  "I'll work it out with your Dean.  Lord knows he owes me a fucking favor."  
  
Zayn sighed, watching his mother disappear again into the office and the door slam shut.  Tired of sitting, he stood up and made his way towards the front doors, pulling out a fag.  He found himself in the same place he'd been just days before with Niall, leaning against the wall as he blew smoke into the sky.  
  
"You told," Niall said behind him.  
  
Zayn turned around, letting out a wispy grey cloud before nodding solemnly.  "I told my mum."  
  
Niall nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.  His blue zip up was too big on him and made him look even smaller than he was.  Zayn had the urge to reach out and adjust the shoulder, but he held back.  
  
After a moment Niall ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.  "That thing... that thing you said before about..."  he paused, clearing his throat.  "Don't-- don't do that again.  I can't.  Not with Cher around."  
  
Zayn raised an eyebrows as he finished the last of his cigarette.  "Do what?"  
  
Niall looked uncomfortable, but Zayn took a step forward and pressed on, "Do what, Niall.  Say it."  
  
Niall grumbled under his breath.  
  
"What?" Zayn demanded, back Niall into the wall.  
  
"Talk about fucking me," he mumbled, blushing furiously.  Niall cautiously looked up at him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.  
  
Zayn wanted to play the bad guy, keep the act going, but he was honestly just too exhausted to pretend anymore.  Aside from that, Niall was the only person he seemed to have around in his life at the moment that didn't share a house with.  A friend.  
  
Sighing, Zayn took a step back, running a hand through his hair.    
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized, looking down at his feet.  "I shouldn't of-- was a bit shit of me to do that.  I’ve never really had a... friend before."  
  
Niall nodded.  "It's okay," he replied.  Tentatively, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Zayn, surprising him.  
  
"I told you, we're mates.  I meant what I said," he mumbled into his shoulders.  
  
Zayn closed his eyes and breathed in deep.  
  
  
  
  
"Zayn, you ready?" his mum calls up, clearly a bit huffy.  Despite his mum and dad's amicable relationship, she always got touchy when him and his siblings went anywhere near him.  
  
"Yeah mum, I'm just grabbing something," he replied.  On a whim he grabbed the cross that's been sitting on his nightstand for months, wrapping it around his neck.  Rushing down the stairs, Zayn made it out the door before looking up and to see Harry leaning against the brick of someone's house across the street.  
  
For a moment, he thought that he was dreaming.  It'd been over a month since he'd last talked to Harry.  And it wasn't like their last conversation was really a talk so much as Zayn letting out his rage.  
  
"Mum, I'll be right back," he said quietly, starting to cross the street.  
  
"Zayn," she warned, glaring at Harry.  
  
"Mum, it's fine," he replied, turning around with soft eyes, "I can handle it."  
  
Zayn walked towards Harry, crossing his arms over his chest.  He suddenly felt that old consciousness of his appearance.  An oversized zip-up and Jack Wills sweat with clunky Uggs.  Nervously, he runs a hand through his unstyled hair, biting down on his lip.  
  
"What do you want, Harry?" he asked quietly, avoiding his gaze.  
  
Harry didn't say anything in response for a long time, leaving Zayn to tap his foot nervously against the pavement.  Then, moments later, Zayn is started my the pads of Harry's fingers brushing over the exposed skin of his collarbone.  It sends an electricity up Zayn spine that reminds him how long it's been since he's touched Harry's skin.  
  
"You look good, y'know," he mumbled, pulling Zayn's chin up.  "Like you used to when we first met."  
  
Zayn scoffed, batting his hand away, "You hated the way I looked when we first met."  
  
Harry frowned, shaking his head.  "No, you hated the way you looked.  I fell in love with you like this."  
  
"Yeah, right," Zayn laughed, shaking his head as he moved away from him.  
  
Harry wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer.  "Hey," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, "I did love you.  No matter what you think, I really fucking loved you."  
  
Zayn's bottom lip trembled as Harry's hand trailed onto his shoulder, squeezing tightly.  "Why did you come?" he asked softly.  
  
He sighed.  "To break up properly."  
  
Zayn finished let out a quiet sob, unable to force himself to push away when Harry ran his hand over his face.  
  
"I'm sorry.  I'm sorry for what I did to you, I'm an asshole," he mumbled, biting down hard on his lip.    
  
Zayn nodded and looked away as he wiped his face.  "Do you love him?"  
  
Harry let out a deep sigh, shaking his head.  "I dunno... maybe," he replied, frowning, "He's not really talking to me right now.  Not that I deserve him, but."  
  
Zayn sniffled and wiped his face with the fabric of his sweatshirt.  Harry sighed and pulled him into a hug, carding his long fingers through Zayn's thick hair.     
  
"We were good, huh?  For a a while there?" Harry asked.  He almost sounded hopeful.  
  
Zayn leaned up and kissed him square on the lips.  This time, it felt almost... friendly.  "We were great, babes," he confirmed, brushing his fringe out of his eyes.  
  
"Zayn, we're gonna hit traffic if we don't leave!" his mum shouted across the way.  
  
He sighed, finally pulling away from Harry.  He was held back as Harry grabbed his hand, and he turned around, looking at him expectantly.    
  
"What?" he questioned, grinning slightly.  
  
"Stop being a fucking recluse and come sit with us once in a while," Harry added with a smirk.  
  
Zayn rolled his eyes, shrugging him off.  "Wanker."  
  
Hurrying across the street, Zayn slid into his mum's car with ease, slamming the door before buckling up.  
  
"Everything alright, love?" she asked.  
  
Zayn nodded at her, grinning.  Rolling down his window, he placed his headphones over his ears, leaning out the window as _It's Time_ by Imagine Dragons blasted in his ears.  
  
Maybe everything would finally be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click [here](http://luckyhorans.tumblr.com/post/31271372523) for the soundtrack to the episode, and click [here](http://youtu.be/th-bcCqO_2Y?hd=1) for the opening credits made by the lovely [greefy17](http://greefy17.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I've been working on this for a while now. I'm so excited to finally be sharing it with the world! I will try to update bi-weekly, maybe even weekly in some case, but I like to take my time writing. Please also note that I am not British, and my understanding of British slang comes from all the shows I watch. If you are from the area the boys are from, feel free to bring up some good slang and/or let me know if something isn't very common. Also thank you to "team skins!au" aka Ash, Caroline, Lauren, & Shyla for beta-ing, giving me ideas, and reading my constant chapter updates. I love you, fuckers. ;)


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